Dreamwalker
by BlueStoneArcher
Summary: The tawtute are sent away, the injured pulled from Hometree, the allied clans return to their homes, life continues. The Singer from the Ikran clan remains behind, telling himself he wishes to discover the Story to be told here, ignoring the fascination of one particular Dreamwalker. M/M OCs.
1. Chapter 1

Quick Author's note:

A friend recommended that I cross publish some of my stories, so this one will be my first attempt at that. Originally published on 2009-12-21 over on aff. I got in the habit of putting in "foot notes" at the end of each chapter, with some of the more pertinent translations from English to Na'vi, since looking stuff up in the middle of a interesting bit of plot always sucks. So, if I mention tawtute, and you've forgotten what it means, feel free to scroll down and grab the translation.

Oh, and please excuse the occasional directional towards my DA account (and the obvious obfuscation to plug that aspect of my storytelling). I keep having occasional bouts of artistic insanity/inspiration and illustrating stuff that's happening in the story. The eventual goal is to have a finished illustration for every chapter.

Avatar is of James Cameron. I do not own anything, other than this writing and my own non-canon characters. I write for fun, not for profit.

* * *

Chapter One

The Tawtute were sent home. Some, a chosen few, remained with the people. A time of war has come to an end – now it is time for recovery.

Standing among a group of hunters from nearly every clan, Rol'ei leaned against his bow, watching the parade of small aliens as they were marched back to their ship. His eyes strayed to the strange creatures, the in-betweens, who looked so similar to the People, yet little differences marked them: their dress and weapons, at the moment, the most noticeable.

The Omaticaya Clan's people had worked with them, learned their language, their ways, since the Sky People first fell to Eywa's land. When Rol'ei had first seen the falling stars going into Blue Flute territory, he'd sent runners from the Ikran Clan to gain information. Bit of tales, here and there, but until the battle, he'd never seen one of the Sky People.

"Oel ngati kameie, Singer."

Rol'ei bowed to his leader, the beautiful Kame'awve. Her body still streaked red from her war paint.

Every time he looked on her hard, willowy body he felt a sense of pride. The Ikran Clan had never had a better leader, not in all the histories that he Sang to the younglings.

"Oel ngati kameie, Sister."

"The Omaticaya Clan leaders have invited us to remain, for a ceremony at the Utral Aymokriya. Do you wish to remain?"

He nodded, his eyes traveling back to the stout, dirt-colored little bodies.

"They have brought the clans back together. Is it the least we can do to honor that request. So many have been lost, it will help to bring our people back together."

She nodded. Often she consulted her brother, but her mind was her own. Leading was her vocation; his was to tell the stories, sing the old songs, and teach.

"Very well. We will begin the march home after the ceremony."

She left him then, to supervise the last of the aliens disappearing into their metal toruk.

He hummed to himself, standing tall while others ducked, as the behemoth creature belched out foul smoke and took wing. He modulated his voice until it vibrated at the same frequency as that huge roar.

Others of his tribe took up the keen, singing the joy in their hearts to see the last of the Sky People, singing that last long joyous note as the smoke tail lined the day's sky.

The silence that followed left a pointedly sad note to the victory.

He sighed. So much to rebuild.

Omaticaya's path stood longest before them. The other clans had lost hunters and mounts in the hundreds, but this clan had lost their home, their hope, their leader, their leader's successor, and many of their people to the aliens. Too many.

Rol'ei's toes stretched and flexed over the unnaturally hard, flat ground beneath his feet. No touch of Eywa here. No life, as he could see it. What would he Sing about the departed aliens? Easily they could become the stuff of children's nightmares. Tales to scare and delight. Especially now, so soon after so many had died under their hand.

No, while other, lesser Singers might use this poor inspiration, he wouldn't reduce himself to that.

Surely, there were other things to Sing about? Other stories to be told?

The darkness of one of their homes called to him.

These aliens seemed to be creatures who liked... things. They didn't have just a loincloth, but many clothes, not just a bow and arrow but loud, bright, big weapons. Would they have hammocks? Would their colors be as bright inside their home as their clothing the wore? What did they carve their p'ah s'ivil chey from?

Not precisely furtive, he looked around to see if anyone noticed him.

Just another member of the fifteen clans standing around.

Many looked like they had tasks to preform. If they truly did, he had no idea.

He used his bow as a walking stick, traveled slowly to disguise the injury he suffered from. The hard, unnatural ground did nothing to help the ache. He would tend to the wound in his thigh soon enough. Always more important things to deal with.

Just as his fingertips brushed the frame of the opening, another Na'vi stepped out, startling him. No, not a Na'vi.

"Oel ngati kame." The other wore a huge grin, though his words were slow and precisely pronounced.

"Oel ngati kame ..." Rol'ei replied, searching for a term he hoped would suit without insulting. "Dreamwalker."

"Dreamwalker?"

"You are one of the Sky People, are you not?"

This one stepped out into the light, his eyes going to the smoke tail in the sky, the last trace of the aliens sent back to their home. He must have missed their departure.

An odd smile lit his face. "I do not think I am one anymore. I'm Edward Cera."

"Edwardcera-" Tol'ei began, slipping the long name together in the manner he had heard from the Omaticaya.

The dreamwalker held up a hand. "Please, just call me Ted."

"I see you, Ted. I am Rol'ei, Singer to my clan."

"It is an honor meeting you, Singer, I wish it could be under better circumstances."

"Yes, I would-"

"Rol'ei!"

He turned to another member of his clan, a young, heavily muscled man who just connected to his ikran; his ceremony to manhood delayed because of the battle.

"Oel ngati kameie, Pxi."

"The Olo'eyktan has called for all our able hunters to go into the woods and search for additional wounded."

He nodded.

He turned back to the dreamwalker. He opened his mouth to say something, but words failed him at the sight of one of Spirit Tree's seeds floating airily about his head, landing momentarily before a careless flick of the ear sent it on its way. The members of the Omaticaya Clan certainly didn't exaggerate when they spoke of these strange beings being Eywa-touched.

The other's head tilted a little. "Do you need aid?"

"No, we will take our ikran. We need to cover the ground quickly."

"Of course, your pardon."

"Farewell, Ted."

"Farewell, perhaps we will speak again in a happier time."

"Perhaps."

"Come, Brothers and Sisters! We search for our fallen!"

With a sharp blast from the wooden whistle around his neck, he called his mount. Others whistled or yelped, a flurry of wings momentarily took up all the flat ground while his people mounted.

His ikran, Ratche, a dark blue female with flecks of purple and green along her sides and wings, cooed worriedly at him while he connected with her. Her injuries laid heavily on his body. He would not care for himself until he could see to her needs.

She bent as low as she could for him to swing up. He settled on her shoulders, her leather harness cut off during the battle, and urged her upwards.

* * *

All the people chanted, connecting bodily and mentally, as the bodies of the Torukmakto, Jakesully, were brought forward. The aches in Rol'ei's body fell away with the connection, his body simply a part of the whole with the minds of all the others pressing in on him.

It had been easy enough to accept that Jakeully had been brought into the clan, accepted as one of the people, when his proper body had been the only thing Rol'ei had seen. Now that he could see that Torukmakto, too, had a stunted body like the rest of the aliens opened up strange feelings inside of him.

A hush fell as Eywa made her decision, to keep her chosen warrior in the body of her people, or to take him into herself.

His heart raced, as all the people's did. From his place close to the front, thanks to his sister's standing, he could see Neytiri, the future leader of her clan, lean over his small, broken body, then turn to his proper one.

A tense moment. All holding their breath.

They felt his first breath as if their lungs had never tasted air before. She clutched him to her breast.

Rol'ei felt a thousand tears fall down the curve of a thousand cheeks. For all that they had lost, one had been found. Chosen and blessed by the Mother like few others in their long histories.

He wiped his own cheek, smiled at his sister, and joined the ululation.

* * *

"I am going to stay here, Sister."

His leader glared at him a moment, before looking back at her people organizing below them. Many injured had been found, needed nursing. The healthy and the walking wounded would drag the injured home. So many ikran killed in battle... Many would have to walk. A long trip indeed. His thigh ached at the thought.

"What brought this idea to you?"

"There is a Song here, Sister, a story that will need to be told."

"And you can not get this story from a runner later? When everyone is home and safe?"

He shook his head. "It is not the same. Too much I have already missed. I must listen to as much as I can, learn it, so I can Sing it for the next generation to know, to learn from our mistakes."

"How many of our people have been hurt, killed? We need someone to sing our clan songs of strength, of hope."

He laughed.

"You sing as well as I do of strength. The forest will forever know this story, but we need to know it as well."

They gripped each other's shoulders, said their farewells. Rol'ei watched as his clan disappeared into the forest.

* * *

Rol'ei made sure to position himself next to one of those dreamwalkers as they moved logs. Luckily, he found himself paired up with the one he met earlier, the Ted dreamwalker. Perhaps working side-by-side he'd be able to ask him the questions that'd been burning at the back of his mind.

Most of the fires had died out, but Kelutrel had been mighty. His life had a lot of energy to it, a lot of fuel for a great inferno. And, amazingly, with all of the great tree's mass, occasionally pockets of fresh air had been trapped, along with survivors. Every Na'vi found either well, hurt, or even passed on brought renewed hope, and pushed those striving to clear the debris to move faster, push exhausted bodies harder. Some of the aliens even used those mechanical monstrosities to bring water in, cut the larger pieces of wood into smaller, more manageable ones.

Rol'ei couldn't help but stare at the Dreamwalker as they worked together with nearly silent intensity. The strange, overlarge hands, with their extra finger, unnerved him.

"Here, get under." He directed Ted, they placed their bodies under the hulking mass of a broken branch, used leg muscles to shove up on the wood. A third, one of the Pa'li Clan who hadn't left yet, reached under and retrieved yet another body.

"Can't take much more of this!"

Rol'ei opened his mouth to agree with the sentiment when the great branch slipped from the dreamwalker's shoulder. The weight on Rol'ei alone shoved his body downward into the broken branches below him.

He hissed in pain. The others shouted, the horse woman screaming for help as the dreamwalker scrambled, grunting, skin slick with dampness fighting for purchase.

Others of the clan came and lifted the log enough to him dragged out.

He groaned aloud.

"Rol'ei? Rol'ei!"

He blinked up, a dark face silhouetted against the bright sky behind him.

"Oh thank the mother. He's awake. Stay with us please."

"Awake?"

His eyes couldn't focus quite right. He reached out, his fingers touching the cheek above him, tracing the curve of the light on the stranger's cheek. Just a simple little touch, that caress of light, bringing a glow into the warm skin. Dampness under his fingertips?

"Keep your eyes open, here, drink."

Cold water passed over his lips. Stale and metallic. He spat it out.

"Please, drink. They're going to get one of the shaman."

The next sip he did take. The taste lingered.

"Here, let me look at you." Rough hands passed over his body. He looked up, shocked that Mo'at, the Omaticaya Tsahik herself, looked after his wounds.

"I am honored you would treat me."

"Fah. Honor means nothing. Your feet are punctured, so is your thigh. Your back is scraped."

She drew down his eyelid, pinched a bit of flesh here and there.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Rol'ei's silence answered that for her.

"Take him to the clearing, make him eat and wash his wounds. Singer, I care not that your sister is Olo'eyktan. For me you are just another wounded. Do not waste my time. And you," she turned on the dreamwalker. "Have more care. If I find you dropping more charred logs on wounded hunters I'll snip off your tail."

"Yes, ma'am, I hear you."

"Rest," she said to Rol'ei. "We need able bodies helping."

With that she turned back with a huff, several younglings traveling behind in her wake.

"I'm so sorry, Rol'ei. I should have warned you sooner I couldn't hold up my side of the log. Here, let me help you up."

The dreamwalker lifted him, tucking an arm around Rol'ei's ribcage.

Rol'ei watched the ground carefully as they made their slow way to the clearing. Climbing over charred remains left him further exhausted. Staring at his feet, where he placed them, and his companion's wrapped feet became his total world, until the hills of wood were replaced with ash strewn ground.

"You know, when I first saw those, I thought they made you sound like an angtsik."

"Those?" The dreamwalker set him down as gently as he could on a rock, before collapsing next to him.

Rol'ei waved to the alien's tan colored foot coverings. "We keep our feet bare, so we can feel the soil beneath us, can use our toes to grip as we run and climb."

The dreamwalker's smile held a taunt strain. "Well, that didn't serve you too well today."

Rol'ei nodded. He lifted one foot to examine it. Splinters of blackened wood marred the surface.

"Oh that looks painful. Here, let me look at that. Ted, could you get me some clean water and some more gauze?" A voluptuous female interjected as she knelt before him on the ground.

This dreamwalker's speech had a softer, lilting cadence. Her smile just as quick as the other, Ted's. She had a huge case with her, full of bottles and bunches of folded cloth. Her hair had been pulled back in a plain, single braid. Her clothes, like those of the other dreamwalkers, covered most of her torso. She wore the same foot coverings as the rest, but unlike the others, she also had strange white hand coverings, very tight against her skin.

Rol'ei finally looked around him, at all the others spread out in the clearing. Some in little clusters talking quietly, others stretched out on great cloths, groaning. One of the short-bodied aliens bustled around the groups, touching shoulders, offering food, drink.

"I'm Lisa, and we're doing triage here, helping those who've been injured." Her deft hands plucked at his skin as she clarified in a language he understood. "Looks like you've had quite an adventure today."

"I am Rol'ei. If you could see to my feet so I can get back out there. There is much to be done. Mo'at said I needed to rest, but-"

She nodded. "Rest is the best medicine. When did that thigh wound happen?"

"In the battle."

"It's beginning to fester. I'll clean out your feet, and the scrapes on your shoulders, but that is going to need some more intensive work. May I examine it?"

"Of course."

She gripped his knee used it to rotate his hip socket. He winced. Her fingers pressed against the wound, forced it to seep out some foul fluid. She repositioned him again, reached between his legs to feel the underside of his thigh.

"Looks like the bullet is still in there. Maybe two? Looks like your fell on top of the entry wound."

"I fell from my ikran, yes."

"Well congratulations, warrior, you've made it to the top of my list of those to care for."

She put a cooling compress against the top of his thigh. "This has painkillers in it. It will only numb a small area. I don't have enough for everyone to give you enough of a dose to knock you out. Will you be okay if I keep you awake while I work?"

"Save whatever you need to for the others."

She grinned at him. He felt the force of this charismatic female. She probably had no shortage of males looking for her to choose them.

Never one to leave silence be, especially with a lovely female picking charred remains of another tribe's home from his bloody feet, Rol'ei sought some topic to occupy himself with.

"Do you sing?"

"Sing?"

"You're voice is melodic enough."

She laughed. "I haven't sung in ages."

"Haven't sung in ages, Lisa? You bring shame to the avocation. I should teach you the great ballads of my tribe. Why, one comes to mind of," he hissed in pain as she pored some sharply scented fluid over the gaping holes in his freshly de-wooded right foot. "Of the legacy of the five riders of Toruk."

"You'll have to add to that ballad now. There have been six riders."

"Yes, I'm working on just that. I…"

Rol'ei's eyes focused over the female's shoulder while she bent to work on the left foot.

Standing perhaps ten cubits away, the male dreamwalker he'd been working with, stared at the two of them, frozen as if the world passed on without him.

"Ah, it seems our friend has returned."

She looked over her shoulder. "Ted! Get your skinny blue ass over here."

His footsteps shuffled even louder this time. The milk-white jug he dropped sloshed and shifted on the ground. He held a sack filled with other items. The female set down her plucking instrument.

"I brought what you asked for."

"A lot more than that, by the look of it. What do you have?"

He ducked his head. "Nothing of interest."

She looked at him, her head tilting a moment, before a big grin pulled her lips back.

"Set your ass down next to Rol'ei here. I'm going to have a look at you next. Did you bring any cups with that water? He could use a drink."

"No, I didn't think-" She grabbed the cloth on his sleeve, stopping him from getting up again.

"Never mind. Can you drink from cupped hands?" She mimicked with her own. Rol'ei nodded. "Then pour him as much as he can take. I'll take a look at your shoulders, but then we need to work on that thigh."

Rol'ei cupped his hands tightly to capture the water that shaky hands poured. The female got behind him, her fingers plucking at unseen splinters.

This water tasted fresher, cooler. He greedily gulped several handfuls, the jug collapsed partway as his stomach sloshed.

"I thank you. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was."

"The ash'll do that to you," the female said over his shoulder. "Almost done here."

She retrieved some of the clean cloth and spread it over his shoulders.

"I put a little more of the painkilling ointment on those. Some of the scrapes looked like they hit your shoulder blades. I'm going to probe a little deeper into the wound. If I hear a tick, then I know that there's some metal in there."

"And if there is still metal in there?"

"It will have to come out."

Rol'ei sighed and nodded. Others had lived through far worse in the past couple days. He could survive this.

She retrieved a long thing metal probe from her vase, wiped it, and pulled off the painkilling cloth. With a smooth motion, she inserted the metal. The fishing feeling hurt the most, the methodical lifting, repositioning, and delving back in. Rol'ei squeezed his eyes shut, his hands tightly gripped he lip of the rock he sat on.

"I'm going as fast as I can," the female said through grit teeth. "If you can not hold your legs still, I can ask Ted to hold it for you."

"I will remain still."

She grunted in reply. The probe went in again, this time, he felt the resolute tap she was looking for.

"I think I found your bullet. I'm going to get it out, but I'm going to need to open you up a bit more before I can get it."

The male scooted closer to him, throwing one arm around his shoulders, the other took a firm grip of his nearer hand. He looked down at their joined hands.

* * *

bluestonearcher DA /art/Hands-186602954

* * *

"It's traditional, among my people," the female said, helpfully, "To grip onto another, for emotional support. This will be painful."

Rol'ei clenched his jaw, still staring at their joined hands. "Work quickly." If she said this would be painful, and had not warned of the pain before, it could only get worse.

Her hand tightened on his knee for a moment, before she got more tools. She poured a liquid over them, over his leg, scrubbed a little with her hands. He stared a the clinging pale covering on her hands. She brought a tiny, bright knife to his skin. He almost laughed that she would use such a small thing on him, but with a quick darting motion, the flesh of his thigh blossomed open. For a moment he felt nothing, then the pain hit.

He squeezed onto Ted's hand, keeping his leg as still as he could while she worked.

"If you need to scream, do so, it helps."

Fine beads of sweat lined her brow.

"Damn, wish you were human. Then we could just leave the bullet in."

Rol'ei growled as she inserted tongs into the wound she made.

"Can't give you our antibiotics, thank Eywa our painkillers work on you at least. Aha! There, I have it."

He scream out then. His fingers and toes curled tight.

"Easy, easy, I have you."

Cool fingers stroked his back in idle circles. He focused on the gentle caress as the pain in his thigh ebbed to something more manageable.

"Got it out. Do you want it?"

He opened his eyes. She had a crushed hunk of blood at the end of her instrument. He held open his free hand. She dropped it into his palm. He thumbed away his own blood and tissue. It looked beautiful, in its own way.

"I will keep it, for now."

"We're only halfway done. I need to search if there's a second bullet, then clean everything and close up. Do you need a break?"

He shook his head. "Just be quick."

He gripped onto Ted's hand tightly as she went back to fishing. He watched, though he could barely stand it. Finally, she set down her tools, and picked up a brush and a small bottle. She poured burning fluid on top of the wound she'd enlarged and scrubbed into it.

"I need to clean out anything that might have caused the wound to fester. I don't know if it was the bullet itself or debris from the fall."

He grit his teeth and remained silent.

She worked quickly, but the pain increased like a steady tide against the rocks, leaving him battered and bruised and lost at sea.

"I think we're loosing him."

"Skxawng! Faaa... Get him laying down. I'm going to cauterize this to seal it quickly."

Rol'ei heard their voices, felt as Ted slid him into a reclined position, had nothing in him to fight against it.

"Hold his leg down, he'd going to thrash."

Firm hands gripped onto his leg, one right against his hipbone, the other just above the knee.

He screamed as the firebrand shot into him. Clawed at the body on top of him, holding him down, making him vulnerable to the pain.

At last, at long last, the darkness took him.

* * *

Individuals

Kame'awve – Olo'ekytan of the Ikran Clan (she was unnamed in the movie, so forgive creative license)

Lisa – Lisa Furlan, medic and language expert

Rol'ei – Singer for the Ikran Clan

Ted – Edward Cera, Avatar ethnobotanist. A specialist in nutritional values of Pandoran plants.

Omaticaya Clan – main characters' clan

Pa'li Clan and Ikran Clan are mentioned, and in later chapters I also have the Nantang Clan,e tc  
Kelutrel, or Hometree – burnt down, the scene for a lot of my fic  
Utral Aymokriya, Tree of Voices, the great spirit tree that the Omaticaya Clan has retreated to.  
Tsahaylu (Ted commonly mis-says "the halo" without realizing it) - the bond/neural connection  
Tsahik - shaman, matriarch  
Olo'eyktan - clan leader

Tawtute – Sky People

Critters -  
Ikran (Banshee) – Four-winged flying mount, wingspan 13.9 meters (with Sea ikran easily reaching 15 or more)  
Pa'li (Direhorse) – six-legged horse mount, 4 meters tall  
Angtsik (Hammerhead Titanothere) – like a hammerhead shark and a rhino had a demon love-child  
Toruk (Leonopteryx) – "biggest thing in the sky" dragon-like main predator of the sky

Phrases  
Oel ngati kameie – I See you  
Skxawng! – Moron!

P'ah s'ivil chey (or just chey) – personal belongings rack


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Shit! Shit!" Ted fell back into English.

"Shut up, let me work."

"He's out! He's not breathing!"

"What?" Lisa hopped up next to him, but her hand on his ribcage. "Oh, he's fine. Just knocked out cold. Gives me a chance to finish him up. Keep a hold of him, will you?"

Ted frowned as she first taped, then wrapped up his wounds in gauze.

"Everyone's been pushing themselves to their limits. It's better that he gets a little sleep. Is he a member of the Omaticaya clan?"

"No, I don't think so. He said goodbye to a group right after the ceremony."

"Then taking him back to the spirit tree to sleep might not be the best idea. Why don't-"

A group of local Na'vi brought in a couple young ones.

"Crap. Get them settled. I just need a moment more with him."

"Come, friends," Ted said, switching back to Na'vi. "Bring them here."

He led the hunters to the blankets they'd set out. Tear streaked cheeks implored him to help. He bit his lip and looked down at the two little ones. They were covered in ash.

"Found in the tree?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Mo'at said to bring them."

"Yes… let me get the healer. LISA!"

She looked up, grabbed her bags, and jogged over.

"They were found in the tree."

She checked the pulse of the older one first, a young boy. She put her ear to his chest, then lifted the lids of his eyes. Her frown said enough. The girl she checked and immediately began work.

"Get me a respirator."

When he returned with it, she'd cut a small hole into the girl's throat. She pushed the line through into the hole. She sprayed something down her mouth. "Come on, breathe, damn it, breathe…"

As if on command, the little girl coughed.

"Easy, easy," Lisa said in Na'vi. "Her throat was burnt by the air," she said to the parents. "This tube is putting air straight into her lungs. Past the burns in her throat. Here, hold her."

Lisa knew her way with parents, somehow knew that one of the women was her mother. The woman cried and rocked her body while Lisa continued to check her, injecting her and spraying into her mouth periodically.

"I'm sorry we couldn't save the boy," Ted said lamely.

"He walks with Eywa," the woman who'd carried him in said. "We will take him back to the tree for a proper burial."

Ted nodded.

The group returned into the forest, leaving mother and daughter in Lisa's care.

"Get him out of here, will you?" Lisa said, with a jerk towards Rol'ei's still prone body. "We have a couple spare beds. Put him up for the night, and get yourself out of the avatar for a couple hours. Both your bodies need food and rest."

"Yes, ma'am."

They smiled at each other. "Go on, get, before I run you on more errands."

He nodded and picked up Rol'ei's limp body. With a finger he snagged the bag he'd filled up earlier. He'd find use for it.

Two of the others were already in the bunk house, already sacked out for the night. At least he wouldn't be alone in the military bunker. Without the miners, mercenaries, and technician it would be an vacant place.

He considered the bunks. Three empty beds to choose from; two dead, and the other one given up for a place at his girl friend's side. It seemed a bit… like he was dishonoring their memories by using them for a stranger. The others might be coming back for some shut eye soon themselves. It wasn't dark yet, but it would be soon, and none of the scientists were used to being out at night in the avatars. The Na'vi were too busy with their own to be troubled with keeping a bunch of newcomers safe in the woods.

Fine, his own bed, then.

As he leaned down to set Role'ei's body down, the bag knocked into the bunk, thunking loudly.

The Na'vi woke up with a start and trashed his arms wildly. Ted dropped him the final foot or so onto the bed.

"What? Where am I?"

"You are in our sleeping area, the dreamwalker's sleeping area," Ted sat down on the ground in front of him. "You'd collapsed, and Lisa said it would be best to let you sleep."

Rol'ei groaned and sat up on Ted's cot.

"Well, I've slept. I should go back to-"

"No, you need rest. You've only been out for a few minutes. Here."

Ted reached for the sack he'd brought earlier. On his way back from the camp with the water, when he'd thought they might be able to get away and get back to work, he'd picked several of the ripest fruit from the little orchard.

"Here, you need to eat. You lost a bit of blood while Lisa was fishing around in you."

"Ah, is that a Tevi squash?"

"Yes, here."

Ted sat on the wooden floor as Rol'ei carved up the green squash. He plucked hunks of the succulent meat out and sucked the juice from his fingertips. Ted sighed at the sight.

"You would like some?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, please."

He took the offered slice.

"You had a strange look," Rol'ei commented before taking a bite. "When you came back with this bag."

Ted kept his eyes trained on the slice between his fingers.

"If we want to be getting back into the woods to help, we should probably both sleep, at least for a couple hours," Ted said instead of answering.

He made a non-committal noise.

"What else do you have here?"

"Oh, wait…"

Too late, the curious Na'vi had his hands in the bag. Ted got an inkling that Rol'ei might not have been just wandering past the back door the other day.

"Hm, looks like a set of your clothing."

Ted felt blood rise up to his cheeks. He hadn't seen the Na'vi blush, but this avatar's body certainly had enough human physiology to be capable.

"I thought, with your injuries, it might be a good idea to cover more. Especially with working next to me."

He looked up into that curious face. A smile pulled back Rol'ei's lips after a moment. He plucked out the clothes Ted had chosen.

"We should wait until after you've had a chance to rest some. Lisa only just did up your bandages. She'll have my hide if I injure you again."

In the bottom of the bag, Ted'd placed a pair of avatar-sized combat boots. They had enough spare around for another decade's worth of hiking in the forest.

"So, I too will sound like a forest crashing angtsik?"

"You don't have to wear them, I don't meant to offend-"

"No, not at all, I can already feel how swollen my feet are going to be."

Ted looked away, taking a bite from his squash to disguise how pleased he felt. No other Na'vi, save the children playing dress-up, had any interest in their clothing.

"They are asleep?"

Ted looked back at his guest. He was intently watching the two unoccupied avatar's in their bunks.

"In a way."

"They are so still. Why are they in separate beds?"

"Well… wait, separate beds?"

"Within a clan, it is strange for one of the people to voluntarily sleep by themselves. Typically, a family stays together until a child grows up enough to want to stay with friends, or when a man finds his mate. And yet, it looks like your hammocks are only large enough for once each."

"Yes, well, we don't sleep together. I mean, we're… none of us are mated to each other, so we'd rather stay in separate beds."

"Doesn't it get lonely? Being separated?"

Ted plucked up one of the fruits that'd fallen out of the sack. The tough skin reminded him of an orange. He picked at it with a fingernail.

"When you came here, did you bring your families? Do you feel the pain of being separated from your home world? What is its name? Who is the spirit of your planet?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Rol'ei. I'm not used to that."

"One of the Omaticaya told me that there was a school, near here, at one point. To teach whoever would listen."

"That was different, and I wasn't one of the ones teaching. My interest lies in the plant life here."

"Hm, well, if you are to keep working with me, you learn to expect those questions. I am not of the Omaticaya clan. I have not yet learned."

Ted smiled. "As long as I may ask questions as well."

Rol'ei nodded his approval. Ted loved his smile. Even with all of this darkness right now, Rol'ei had an infectious smile. He looked down, finished peeling off the skin of the fruit. He split it down the center, purple juices dripping down his blue skin. He offered half to his companion. They ate their pieces in silence. Ted yawned until his jaw popped.

"So, are you lonely?"

Ted shrugged. "I don't miss the planet I came from," Ted decided to answer instead. "I've been here four years now. I'm happy to never leave." He yawned again. "It's time for sleep. I can't keep my eyes open. I promise to be awake again in a couple hours. I want to get back to work."

"Sleep until dawn. We both need it."

Ted nodded. He scooted down a bit and curled up on his side. Ted could feel the grains of the rough wooden floor under his shoulder and hip. He closed his eyes and fought to stay awake. Rol'ei shifted on his bunk several times before he finally settled down.

Ted sighed and let himself disconnect from his avatar body and return to his human one.

Reconnecting with his body, after such a long time out, felt strange. For a moment, he entertained the idea of just sleeping in the linkup. But, biology had other ideas. He tossed the lid up and ran to the little boy's room.

* * *

"Hey, Stick-shift. How's the grub?"

Ted grumbled around his reconstituted scrambled eggs. If he had the bags under his eyes that Lisa sported, he doubted he was actually fit for human companionship. "Thought you were going to stay out longer?"

"Jenny's taking over the shift, and things seem to be slowing down now that most of the na'vi are going to sleep for the night. There's only so much anyone can do, and they're more diurnal then we are. You put Rol'ei in your bunk."

Entire mess hall she could have to herself, and she had to sit next to him. Maybe being "alone" wasn't such a bad thing sometimes.

"It didn't feel right putting him in someone else's."

"There are a couple empty ones now."

He poked the eggs with his fork, trying to decide if he wanted to attempt finishing them. With all the lush fruits and vegetables out there, you'd think at least one wouldn't be toxic to the human body.

"So, what's up with that look you were giving me earlier?"

"Look? What look?"

"When you came back with that jug of water and that bag of fruit 'n stuff. Yeah, sorry, I looked in."

"You're the second person to ask."

"You're not very subtle." She smiled to take the sting out of her voice.

"It was just… a surprise to see you in that position."

"Well I had to feel around under his thigh to see if that bullet went through. That damn reinforced carbon fibers all through his body is probably what kept it in."

"Thank you, for getting it out."

"Don't thank me until he's gotten through the first week or so. Soo…. Do you like him?"

"Of course I do. He's very nice. I haven't gotten much of a chance to work with the na'vi, not like everyone who worked at the school room."

"Yeah, you and your garden. The Doc was our expert on plants, and she ran the school. Sorry. I know. It's a sore spot on all of us. Come on, tell me about him."

"He's one of the Ikran Clan, from the ocean. He's the clan's Singer, their teller of stories."

"Ah, that would explain why he asked if I sang. I'm glad you're connecting with someone."

"You're acting as if I haven't had any friends."

"No 'friends' who've put _that _smile on your face. Not for years. We've all had crushes, here and there. It happens. It's healthy."

"And how healthy is an unrequited crush, hm?"

"Alright, not as much fun, I'll admit that. But no more humans are coming this way, so…. Have you thought about joining with your avatar, completely? Like Jake did?"

"Not particularly."

"Our technology is going to break down, eventually. We can keep everything running, without additional supplies, for another fifteen years, maybe. Food-wise, however, we only have maybe six years worth of supplies. We have everything meant for a hundred soldiers, but, we all need to eat. If we transferred to our avatars, then at least we could free up that food. As it is, we're eating double what we need to, just to keep both bodies running."

He set down his fork. "You're saying, the humans will starve, either way, its just a matter of when."

She looked down, nodded. "You were experimenting with hybridizing some of Pandora's plants with seedlings we have from Earth. We have the space now. We can turn crew quarters into hydroponics labs. I'd say, start with the rice first. If we can grow a crop or two of just plain rice, increase our seed count so we have enough to work with…. What?"

"You're working off of a big 'if' there, a lot of hopes that might not work."

"We have to try."

Ted sighed, rubbed his head. "I'm too tired to think about it, right now. I'm only going to get four hours sack as it is."

"Get on to your bunk. I'll take care of the trays."

Once he got to the solitude of his private quarters his thoughts spun around in his head. Too many worries on his shoulders. One of the few reprieves of being on a military base, even as a scientist, there was always someone else to deal with the difficult decisions. Now... everything was up in the air.

* * *

Ted ate his freeze dried crap on the way back to the linkups. Maybe finding a way to set up hydroponics bay would be a nice change. He seriously doubted, with the technology they had here anyway, that he'd be able to hybridize anything. Would he really want to, anyway? If some rice variant turned into the new bamboo or kudzu, and outgrew all the native flora? No, he couldn't do that. It would have to be subject to the same toxicity as the humans. Something susceptible to the hydrogen sulfide in the air.

"Ready to go back?"

He shoveled the last of the "bread" in his mouth and gulped it down with as much water as he could drink.

"Ready as I'll ever be. I've never done so much hard work."

"Well, get ready to feel the aches again."

"Thanks, Roger."

Within an instant, he opened his eyes, back again in the same position he'd been in when he set his avatar body to rest.

He looked up, to see Rol'ei staring down at him.

"Oel ngati kame. You are finally awake."

"Oel ngati kame. Have you been awake long?"

He rolled a shoulder in an expressive shrug. Ted got up and stretched. His shoulders ached from the previous day's work. He pulled up the corner of one of the bandages. Everything looked properly scabbed over, but no sense aggravating it.

"Not long. I tried to wake you, but nothing roused you. Or the others, so, I sat and watched. You sleep like a child, very deep."

Ted smiled. If only.

He looked around at the others. Five beds empty now. The others must have come in after him. He wondered if the other two had stayed out with the Na'vi last night, or had gone back already.

"May I look at your wounds?"

Rol'ei nodded. Basic first aid had been a part of everyone's training in the Avatar Program, and he had a bit more besides. Basic dressings were no problem.

The na'vi's shoulders looked far worse then Ted's had. He frowned. Today he would take better care of those around him. His avatar body had not been hardened for this kind of work, but he would try.

"I'll change these," he said. The locker at the end of his bunk had a small first aid kit. It had just enough gauze to change the dressings. He replaced Rol'ei's foot dressings with a thinner skin replacement plastic. He'd used the very same thing when he was toughing up his avatar skin to daily live of gathering flora in the jungle, so he knew that the gel inside would feel cool and pleasant.

"Ahh that is wonderful. Thank you."

"Do you still wish to try on the boots today?"

Rol'ei lifted one foot, poked at the plastic wrappings. Ted flinched with him.

"I think some protection would be good, considering."

Ted put another patch of the plastic over the na'vi's ankles and the tendon on the back, to make getting used to the boots easier. He ended up borrowing socks from one of the women; luckily everyone wore tube socks, so he didn't have to worry about length of the foot, but four toes, rather than five, made for a more narrow foot.

He tucked Rol'ei's feet into the boots carefully, and laced them up fairly tight.

"Okay, stand up, slowly."

Rol'ei wobbled a little. Ted grabbed his arm, held him steady.

"Easy. It'll take a while to get used to those."

Rol'ei leaned against his arms and wiggled his feet, shifting his weight back and forward, lifting his toes.

"These will protect me?"

"At least from idiot botanists."

Rol'ei smiled. "Irayo. Help me with the rest. Your clothing is very complicated."

Ted chuckled and bent to complete his work.

* * *

Lisa – Lisa Furlan, medic and language expert  
Rol'ei – Singer for the Ikran Clan  
Ted – Edward Cera, Avatar ethnobotanist. A specialist in nutritional values of Pandoran plants.  
Omaticaya Clan – main clan from the movie  
Ikran Clan – Rol'ei's clan

Angtsik (Hammerhead Titanothere) – like a hammerhead shark and a rhino had a demon love-child  
Oel ngati kameie – I See you  
Irayo – Thank you


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The second day working around the remains of Kelutrel exhausted all of the people, dreamwalker, Omaticaya, Pa'li, and Ikran Clan alike.

Fewer and fewer living na'vi were found in the wreckage. The Sky People m'dics and the people's shaman traveled through the remains of the great tree alongside the hunters, wanting to help any survivor the moment they were found.

Surprisingly, Rol'ei found the dreamwalker's strange clothing to be rather comfortable. He felt warmer, which he didn't like, but other than that, the small bugs didn't bite through the cloth, and it served well enough to protect his skin from further scrapes. His feet felt strangest. He had to lean on his bow for more than just releasing the pressure from his thigh, but, he had to admit, he did not slip as much while working in the ash-coated debris. He was grateful for no further embarrassment in front of the Omaticaya people we was so resolute to help.

The sound of wailing never ceased, simply rose and fell in cadence. Eywa would see the living through, but never in all the stories did Rol'ei know of any despair like this one.

What surprised him most were the near constant stream of tears falling down his companion's cheeks. He did not sob or wail like the Omaticaya, but there was no denying the emotion he felt every time they retrieved another body.

"Ted, let us take a break."

"I just want to finish this branch."

Rol'ei shook his head. Ted's arms had been shaking furiously from exhaustion for a full mark of the sun now. "No, we break now. I need to eat."

The dreamwalker stared at base of the branch a moment longer. Rol'ei touched his shoulder. "No one living waits for us under there. It can wait."

"If someone does?"

He sighed. "One more branch."

They had to call a couple more over to help move it, but it was worth the effort. An older member of the clan had been pinned. Unconscious, but still alive. Ted called the nearest dreamwalker m'dic over. She took one look at the rescuers and sent them on their way. Rol'ei smiled.

"Thank you, for helping me with the last one."

"It seems you have a sense for this."

"I'm just watching the way the branches fell. If we watch the tops, the way the angles are, we can see those most likely to leave space under it."

"I'll just follow your direction. You know more of the plants then I do, I believe." The compliment made the dreamwalker smile. "Come. I saw you pack more of the squash in that sack you brought."

"It seems I'm not the only one with skills in observation."

They ate in exhausted, companionable silence.

"Are you ready to get back to it?"

Ted had a strong wrinkle in his brow.

"Not quite yet. I've had an idea, and I'd like to work it out a little." His little knife diced some berries off of their thorny stems.

"Would you mind if we walked? I'm getting stiff."

"Of course."

The dreamwalker slung the bag over his shoulder, so the strap crossed over his chest.

Rol'ei didn't exaggerate. His leg had gotten quite stiff. Maybe, on the way home, when he finally decided to travel back to the ocean, he'd take a side trip to the hot springs. Maybe a day's extra walking, but it'd be worth it. Depending on how long it took, his ikran might even be up to short flights on the way.

Ted's footsteps took them to the outer limits of the great tree. He walked along the branches, using a long stick he'd plucked from the remains.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'll let you know if I find it."

Occasionally they came across the belongings of one of the clan. Rol'ei retrieved a large frond to serve as a carry all, since Ted's bag could hardly carry everything. If the possessions were those of the dead, then they belonged with the body as it was set into the soil to return to Eywa. It wouldn't be proper for neither Ted nor Rol'ei to attempt to decipher if a knife here, or a doll there, was meant to be in the hands of the living or the dead.

"Hm, do you see that?"

Ted pointed to a flicker of blue in the gray-green of the ash covered branches.

"Yes, I believe so..."

"Oh, it can't be."

Rol'ei set down his carry-all and followed Ted into the mess of broken branches. This area hadn't been searched at all, they'd traveled to the far side of the destruction, where none of the fleeing people had turned. Presumably because the military had been closer to this side. At some point he would have to tweak the ear of one of the Omaticaya warriors to learn the details of that fateful day.

He helped hold back the remains that Ted frantically pulled away.

"Oh, I can't believe this!"

"Believe what?"

Ted pulled a long, longer than Rol'ei's outstretched arms, pristine blue item from the mess that'd shrouded it from sight.

"It's the flute!"

"The flute?"

"I'm sorry, the Omati s'ampata. It must be. It has been described to us, but none of my people has ever seen it. We must get it to Mo'at!"

"Was this what you were seeking?"

"...no. I wasn't. I was looking for..."

Rol'ei looked, trying to see what caught Ted's attention. He smiled at the floating tuffs of seeds from the spirit tree.

He stood back as Ted slowly climbed over the branches, following as the seedlings floated away. The seeds disappeared into the branches causing Ted to start digging away again.

"Another flute?"

"No, even better."

Rol'ei gently rested the flute on its side, so he could follow.

Cradled in the dreamwalker's arms was not a child, or some other ancient instrument, but a few seed pods.

"They look just right. I think they ripened just before the fire."

"Seeds?"

"Just as precious as the flute. In a few hundred years, one of these could be the next Hometree."

"Hm, that does little to comfort those now without a place to sleep."

Ted sighed. "True, I suppose. But it represents hope for the future. You cannot deny that we all need that right now."

Rol'ei nodded.

"Shall we bring our finds to Mo'at?"

Ted nodded, staring down at his seed pods. He took off his shirt, wrapped them carefully in the fabric, before tucking them in his sack. Between the two of them, they managed to navigate their way back without breaking anything else.

On the way to the sacred tree, Rol'ei plucked a couple more of the large leaves and wrapped the flute carefully, tying it off with vines. He simply didn't have enough arms to carry his bow, which he still leaned on for stability, his end of the large package of Omaticaya belongings, and the flute.

"You should take this, Ted. I can not carry all of this."

"I... it is a sacred instrument."

Rol'ei made a rude noise with a click of his tongue.

"Relations between the dreamwalkers and the Omaticaya are better, but they are still strained. If I offend Mo'at, then it will be-"

Rol'ei repeated the rude noise and tossed the vine strapping over the dreamwalker's neck, so it sat above the sack he already had on his back.

"Follow my lead, you will be fine."

By the time they got to the tree, the smells of the midday meal cooking in the fire pits nearly drove him mad. Ted's fruit collection was impeccable, but all this heavy work needed more energy in the belly.

"Ah, grand lady," Rol'ei said upon the first elderly female he saw with a pit full of food. "Oel ngati kameie. Though perhaps, I should be saying, it is a pleasure to smell what you have brought to the people."

"Oel ngati kameie, you old charmer. Come, receive a plate."

He began to set down his side of the leaf package, only to be stopped by his companion.

"We should really-"

Rol'ei waved off the comment. "We need to eat. Then we will find the others. My companion is shy, you must forgive him."

The old woman's eyes turned to the dreamwalker. Her eyes finally took him in, his strange dress, then Rol'ei's own dress.

"You do not speak like a demon," she whispered.

Rol'ei laughed. "No, I am no demon. I simply wear their protective armor. I am but a soft-skinned Singer. See? My bow is good for nothing but a walking stick. I am from the Ikran Clan."

"Ah, but they went home, did they not?"

"True, but with women so beautiful here, I had to stay to help."

She laughed, politely, and scooped some of the steaming meat onto a leaf platter. Rol'ei settled down on a rock, motioned Ted to join him. The shy dreamwalker sat close by, pulling his precious bundles into his lap as if the mere act of sitting might break them; considering the occasional bouts of clumsiness, it might very well be possible.

"I do not have enough platters for all," the matron said, eying the dreamwalker wearily.

"We can share," Rol'ei said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He plucked a piece of the meat, blew on it until it cooled enough to taste. He groaned in appreciation, causing the matron to smile again.

"Eat," he whispered urgently to Ted. "It is disrespectful to both the cook and the beast to turn down the meal."

Ted hesitated until Rol'ei finally separated a section for him. "Here, this will be the most tender. She honors us with such a fine cut."

Their fingertips grazed as Ted finally reached for the meat. Rol'ei watched his face carefully, curious about the down-turned eyes, the purple color coming up in his cheeks.

"Thank you," Ted whispered, taking a bite. His eyes closed, his facial expression that of pure pleasure. Rol'ei grinned.

"See woman? You have another man dropping at your feet, your cooking is so good."

"Flatterer."

"Always!"

Others came, sitting around the meal and the fire. Most talked, filling the air with cheerful camaraderie. Rol'ei joked with any who cared to speak with him, many plucking at his tan clothing, curious about why he dressed like a dreamwalker. To each person he spun a different tale, all true, in their own way, but not the whole story.

He filled his platter again with more of the meat and some cooked grain that one of the younger women brought from her family's fire.

Ted stayed small and quiet at his side. Rol'ei didn't mind. All the while he told his minor stories, he wove up one in his mind for Ted to say to Mo'at. He could see the discomfort in all the faces around the dreamwalker. One had been accepted into the clan, now there was a strain in the people, a strange expectation that all had to be welcomed now. A simple story, but a complicated resolution to the problem.

"Is your belly full?"

Ted smiled. "I have not eaten so well in all my life."

"You hear that, sister? Such a compliment!"

"If he stays with you much longer, that honey tongue might rub off."

The dreamalker coughed and sputtered oddly.

"Are you sick?"

"No, no." He rubbed his chest, smiled weakly. "It's just... some things don't translate smoothly."

Rol'ei shook his head. Somethings he'd never understand.

Rol'ei walked alongside Ted, his hands now empty save his bow, which he did his best not to lean on. They'd deposited the belongings with an elder along the way. He'd been careful to have a youngling run ahead and send word to Mo'at that a dreamwalker would be coming into the sacred ground.

A few days ago, this would be shattering to their lives, but so many have been in and out, they could hardly argue... he hoped.

Along the way, Rol'ei stripped off his top covering. He asked if he could remove the bandaging, and Ted had looked, but he pronounced the wounds still too new and ragged. Rol'ei did remove the gauze from Ted's own skin, leaving his upper body streaked in ugly scabbing.

"Fah, you can't meet Mo'at like this..."

Ted grumbled. "I do not have to meet her at all, you can take the flute to her."

"I did not find it, you did. Wait here a moment."

He ducked into the area of one of the artisans. With a smooth word and a compliment or two, he had a bit of red dye from him.

"Here, take the straps off."

Ted's eyes stayed on the ground as Rol'ei quickly traced some hunter's marks on his upper arms.

"I am no artist, nor are you a hunter for the Omaticaya, but considering what you have done for the people..."

"Rol'ei, I can't wear the marks of a hunter; I don't want to insult anyone."

With a snort Rol'ei's fingers changed their path. He didn't know the exact markings of all the clans, but as the Singer of his clan, he had every right to cover the dreamwalker in his own clan's singer marking.

"You are a seeker of truth, are you not?"

"I seek knowledge, yes. Knowledge of the trees, of the flowers and the fruits and the-"

He cut him off with a flick of his hand. "I am giving you the mark of my clan's singers then. Our singers are known among the clans as those who seek the truth in the histories, so that we will be able to teach them to our children. Here, look up. Look at me."

Rol'ei dipped his small finger in the dye, and carefully lined Ted's lower lids.

"We wear red, in my clan, to honor the blood that is shed and to draw our connection with the oceans. There is a red plant that grows." He changed the stroke over the dreamwalker's cheek, wavering it a little to mimic the sharp spades of that plant's leaf. "The way this red sits on your skin reminds me of that plant on the ocean, how it floats just under the surface." His thumb traces a blank space between the lines, noticing the purple coming up again. "Let your voice ring out loudly, so all may hear it," he lined Ted's bottom lip.

He dipped all of his fingers in the dye, drawing lines down one side of his neck, over his collarbone and bare chest.

bluestonearcher DA /art/Face-Painting-186596959

"Which arm do you hold your bow with?"

"I... I haven't shot any weapons."

Rol'ei raised an eyebrow, but decided to line the dreamwalker's left arm, since that one gripped the cords to the flute. On his back Rol'ei marked briskly, accentuating the mere scratches until they looked like great gouges done to him by the paluluka.

As he turned to return the remains of the dye, Ted stopped him with a touch on his shoulder.

"Wait, may I mark you as well?"

"Oh?"

Ted smiled. "I'm not going to be the only one walking up there covered in red."

Rol'ei smiled too, happy to bow to this small demand. "The facial marks are the ones of the Singer. Make the lines under the eyes clean."

"And the ones on the neck?"

Rol'ei nodded.

He held very still as the dreamwalker's fingertips dipped into the cool dye and slowly traced all the proper lines. Considering Ted couldn't see the marks on his own body, Rol'ei felt that he was placing the paint rather accurately.

Rol'ei calmly stared into the eyes of his companion as he worked. Could he tell how intimate the act of marking another could be?

He could hear the whispers of the Omaticaya around him. Let them whisper. Teacher and student could line each other as they wished. Proper ceremonies be damned.

"There," Ted said, his fingers finishing off the last mark down Rol'ei's throat. Rol'ei closed his eyes a moment, reveling in the cooling dye on his skin. He always felt more complete with his lines.

"Let me return this."

He thanked the artisan graciously.

Rol'ei grinned at the dreamwalker. "You already have the attention of all the women around you."

Ted glanced around, his skin going purple again. Rol'ei laughed.

"The lines suit you, Ted. You will find many women courting you to their hammocks tonight."

"Just what I needed."

Rol'ei looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"In jest, I speak in jest."

"Hm. Come, let us find Mo'at."

* * *

Mo'at – Omaticaya's Tsahik, spiritual leader or shaman for the clan  
Rol'ei – Singer for the Ikran Clan  
Ted – Edward Cera, Avatar ethnobotanist. A specialist in nutritional values of Pandoran plants.  
Omaticaya Clan – main clan  
Ikran Clan – Rol'ei's clan

Kelutrel, or Hometree – burnt down, the scene for most of my fic.  
Utral Aymokriya, Tree of Voices, the great spirit tree that the Omaticaya Clan has retreated to.  
Tsahik - shaman, matriarch  
Tawtute – Sky People

Paluluka (Thanator) – panther-like large, stalking predator


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Rol'ei insisted he leave his backpack and t-shirt on the ground outside the central area of the Utral Aymokriya. Ted felt the stares of all the Na'vi around them; he felt oddly like he was walking into that nightmare, the one where you show up for your first day of fourth grade without your clothes on.

The slight breeze tickled the wet paint that Rol'ei had drawn on his face and chest. At least, it hoped it was paint. Something about the vibrant hue brought thoughts of fresh blood to mind.

The sight of the the Utral Aymokriya, the Tree of Voices, swept away all of that embarrassment, at least for a moment. A gentle breeze ruffled the glowing strands of the great tree. Other than Grace, Jake, and Norm, he couldn't think of any other humans who had seen this in person. The photographs from aerial surveys couldn't compare.

Na'vi surrounded him, a clear path urging them forward towards the spirit tree in the distance.

"Why do I get the feeling they know we're coming?"

Rol'ei smiled. "Of course they do. If I didn't send word ahead, do you think Mo'at would be ready to receive you?"

"No, she'd be doing more important things, like continuing to search for more wounded."

Rolei made his rude noise again. Ted had a feeling that was his favorite syllable.

They made their way to center of the clearing. He couldn't help but stare in amazement at the great tree ahead of him. Even in the sunlight, the bioluminescences from the branches glowed. His fingertips practically itched to touch, examine, take samples.

"Don't drool too much," Rol'ei whispered. "You'll loose your grip on that precious flute."

"What do you bring me, Singer of the Ikran Clan?" Mo'at called out over the crowd. Gaunt exhaustion tugged her mouth into a solid frown.

"I bring you nothing. It is a member of the Dreamwalker's clan that brings you a gift this day, Mo'at."

The Tsahik looked regal in her red beaded... chest covering. The name for it wouldn't come to mind. Neytiri and Jake stood behind her. The young woman wore a armored chest plate now, along with carrying the huge ceremonial bow. According to Jake, her father had given her leadership just before the battle. A strange turn of fate.

"Rol'ei, maybe you should..." He felt a firm hand on his shoulder, urging him forward.

"I am at your side," he whispered. "But this is for you."

Ted grit his teeth and stepped up the few rocky steps, into the shade of the Tree of Voices, to stand before the leaders of the Omatecaya clan. He swallowed and bowed deeply. In the silence, probably only a moment long and felt like an eternity, the tree above them rustled in a non-existent wind.

"It... it is an honor to stand before you-" Ted forced out.

"The Singer speaks for you, Dreamwalker. Why are you here?"

"I found something in the remains of Hometree," Ted said without preamble. He wished he had the gift of words like Rol'ei did. He had a feeling that if the Singer was up here making this great declaration, he'd spin a tale so wonderful it'd be spoken about for ages to come.

"Well? Show us."

He juggled the covered packages a moment until finally the shaman plucked the larger from his arms.

"What have you... oh my. Singer! You have brought the voice of the people back to us!"

"As I have said, Mo'at, this is a gift from the dreamwalkers. If I had been searching myself, I would have seen only a speck of blue among all the green. Truly, I do not know the worth of this instrument."

Mo'at laughed at him, if a sharp bark of noise could be called a laugh, and pulled the last of the bundled leaf mater from the great flute.

Whether or not Rol'ei knew the significance of the Omati s'ampta, Ted did. That flute, almost more like a trumpet, or a digerydoo, had only one note hole at the top, and it truly didn't change the notes all that much according to the texts. He had not heard it himself. Playing the instrument was said to bring the voice of Eywa herself to the people. It'd been made from the wood of Hometree ages ago, the oils of a thousand hands brought a polish to its patina'd surface. Omaticaya, the People of the Blue Flute.

"The voice of Eywa has returned to us!" Her triumphant shout was met with the joyful ululations of the clan.

"Thank you, Dreamwalker."

"Ted."

She smiled warmly. "Ted. What other gift do you bring?"

"Along the voice of the past," Rol'ei said, stepping up to his side. "He has also brings fresh hope for the future."

Ted nodded gratefully, embarrassed by the blush he felt creeping up again. Guess it was painfully obvious that he seriously had no idea what to say to the equivalent of local royalty.

He lifted up the sack with the Kelutrel tree seed pods.

If the sight of the recovered flute brought jubilation, Ted could not quite decipher the myriad of emotions that flickered over Mo'at's sun-lined face.

"They are the seeds of Kelutrel," he said lamely. "I know we can not bring Hometree back now, or ever, but here are the last children of the great tree."

She wiped at her eyes; he hadn't noticed the tears until then.

"Yes, I know the children of Hometree well. You offer us a great gift, Ted. We are in your debt."

"No, I-" Rol'ei stopped him with a touch to his shoulder. Ted looked over. He had a gentle smile on his face.

"Hear me, my people!" Mo'at again raised her voice to the skies. "Work hard today, for tonight we celebrate these gifts brought to us. You," she poked Ted in the chest. "Will remain here and begin the preparations. Singer, will you aid me, so I may continue my work?"

Rol'ei nodded. "I would be honored."

She took one last fond look at the seeds in her arm, before wrapping them securely again. "Take care of these, daughter. It is our leader's job to harden the seeds so they may be ready to grow." She stepped down to Ted's level, peering into his face for a long moment. He felt like one of his specimens under a microscope. "You have chosen well, Singer."

"Eywa seems to have chosen all of the Dreamwalkers, for different tasks, just like she chooses us. It is simply up to us to help mold them, help them discover their place."

She made a noncommittal noise and brushed past him.

The majority of the people filed away, leaving the younger, the older, and the injured at their temporary camps.

"Do you need anything for your preparations, Singer..."

"Rol'ei. A pleasure to meet you, Olo'eyktan Neytiri. Have you a singer in your clan that I could prevail upon? I'm sure you have enough to worry about."

"No, we have yet to find the body..."

Rol'ei waved a hand. "Take care of your duties then. We will find all we need."

She nodded, took Jake by the hand, and disappeared into the glowing foliage of the Tree of Voices.

Ted let out the breath he'd been holding.

"That wasn't so bad."

Rol'ei snorted. "Yes, well, we have a ceremony to get you ready for. But... maybe you need to be told another story first."

"The story of what we're going to be doing in this ceremony?"

Rol'ei smiled. "Not quite. Come. First you will hear Eywa."

The Na'vi lead the way, stepping up to a tightly clustered bit of branches. He motioned for Ted to follow.

"This is your first time seeing one of the spirit trees?"

"In person, yes. I've seen pictures before. It's so beautiful in person."

"Would you like to touch?"

Rol'ei gently gathered a little bundle of the branches, letting them slide through his grip, not gripping them at all. Where ever he touched, the glow increased, causing a slight halo against his blue skin.

Ted stepped up, stroked the offered bundles with the back of his knuckles. The glow flared with the touch.

"The Omaticaya clan is fortunate. This tree is the oldest that any of the clans know of."

"Jake said that this was the way that the Na'vi could connect with Eywa."

"Jake is... the rider of toruk?"

"Yes."

Rol'ei's eyelids dropped. He pulled his queue over his shoulder, revealing the neural connection strands hidden within the end.

"It is more than a simple connection to Eywa, it is a way to listen to the voices of the past, to all those who came before us."

Rol'ei's eyes fluttered shut as he made the connection to the Tree of Voices.

"Come, join me."

"I'm not sure I should..."

He smiled. "Do you need my help?"

"No, I just... oh hell." Ted pulled his queue around. He'd seen others use their neural tendrils before, had played with them like all the others when they'd first began driving their avatars, but he'd never connected with anything. He brought his queue to the trees branches; the tendrils wrapped around them of their own accord.

Suddenly, a thousand voices whispered like a tide in his mind. Not just voices of people, speaking in the language of the na'vi, but the sounds of the forest, of the oceans.

"The ceremony Mo'at has in mind for tonight can only be preformed for warriors who have been accepted into the clan." Rol'ei lyrical voice swam above the others.

"Jake is the only one who has been accepted into the Omaticaya clan."

His deep throated chuckle wrapped around Ted like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. "I'm not a member of the Omaticaya either, my friend. I have marked you as a Singer in training in my own clan. There is a tradition, an old one..."

Images bubbled to the surface, voices singing in an older dialect, one Ted could barely identify.

"Can you see what we're going to do?"

"No, not really."

A warm palm on his arm. Ted pulled away, reluctantly, out of the wealth of information that he had no idea how to decipher.

He blinked up wearily at Rol'ei. He hadn't noticed he'd sunk down onto the ground. The na'vi's smile held warm amusement.

"What did you think?"

"So much information. So many voices. Too many. I couldn't make out anything."

"Given time, and practice, you will learn how to listen to one voice at a time. Come, we need to go fishing."

For once the setting of the sun, the beginning of the evening, actually coincided with darkness; usually the light reflected from the planet Polyphemus kept even night fairly well lit.

Ted sampled from each of the platters before him, not quite sure what anything was. For the most part, while in his avatar, he ate fruits and grains; he was, after all, the nutrition specialist. He had to figure out what was toxic, what had the proper macro and micro nutrients to make the avatar bodies work right (which weren't necessarily exactly the same as the Na'vi's requirements, frustratingly). That, and figuring out how to plant a damn garden that could reliably grow everything that they needed to survive left him little time to work out that other side of eating; making delicious food.

The dishes produced by the Omaticaya were rich, flavorful. Some thing savory, some almost... musky.

"Here, try this."

Rol'ei offered him a fluid filled bladder.

"What's this?"

He merely smiled and sloshed it into his arms. "Drink."

Ted flicked out the stopper, took a gulp, and coughed it up. The Na'vi around him laughed.

"Drink it slower. It's potent."

"Yeah," Ted wheezed. "I guessed." He took a long, slow sip. As a human, sure, he'd had alcohol before, but this body had never taken in anything fermented. He held the cool liquid over his tongue for a moment, savoring how the cold temperature juxtaposed to the tingle and the heat as it soaked into his bloodstream. He wondered how many people could savor the first taste of something as simple as alcohol for the first time all over again.

Another swig and he concentrated on the flavor. He'd never been exactly a oenophile, but maybe with a bit of work, and asking a lot of questions from the maker, he could whip up a batch of this for the avatars from the camp's stocks. ...Maybe even see how toxic it would be for the humans. He grinned.

"What's in this?"

"It's special. Here," Rol'ei took the bladder back, tripped his head back and drank deeply to the amusement of those around him.

"Our Singer drinks like an old warrior," a young girl said, her arms snaking nimbly around Rol'ei's shoulders. Ted felt his cheeks flush. He took the bladder back and gulped down more.

He didn't notice Rol'ei deftly untangling himself.

The meal continued, platters and bladders passed around. The sky darkened, the world illuminated solely from the glow of the pit fires and plant life.

"Here, finish this off." Rol'ei handed him a mostly empty bladder. Ted sloshed it back. The last of the dregs had a thick grainy texture. He smacked his lips a couple times.

The Singer took Ted by the hand, lifted him up. He wobbled a moment before Rol'ei caught him by the forearm.

"Where'r we goin'?" He felt his eyes cross a moment with the movement. Had his voice slurred?

"The young ones are being put to bed, and you need to be readied. Come."

Rol'ei led him off to a dark area, separated off by a couple stretched hides; it felt very private, quiet after the constant buzz of the drunk na'vi. Ted smiled.

"Thiffis nice."

The Singer only smiled. His long fingers traced down the dried lines over Ted's chest. Ted gulped. He felt the blood rise to more than just his skin. Maybe he shouldn't have taken the last of the drink.

Rol'ei's fingers tugged at Ted's pants. Something about the frustrated motions woke him up a little.

"What'r ya tryin' ta do?"

"Need this off. You need to be dressed properly."

Ted grunted and automatically undid the button fly of his cargo pants; his boots he'd kicked off ages ago. He felt like he might burst into flames at the sight of his half-stiff dick, but an inquiring look up at Rol'ei gave him little more than his usual tight-lipped smile. He looked down again at his bare toes in the dirt.

"Would you do mine too?"

Ted swallowed, his hands flexing at his sides.

"Ya sure?"

Rol'ei made his rude noise, causing Ted to smile. "If I can't do yours, do you think I could do mine?"

He stumbled in an attempt to lean over, falling to one knee.

"Are you well?"

"Mmm," Ted mumbled, working at Rol'ei's buttons. "Bn t'long since I've taken someone elseses pants off."

Ted sighed and rested his forehead on Rol'ei's slim stomach as the last button finally gave up the ghost. He gave a little thought of thanks that the Singer'd refused underwear before.

"Boots?"

Did he hear the same breathless quality he himself felt? Naw, couldn't be. Ted breathed in the scent of Rol'ei's skin. Nothing smelled so good. So warm, sweet. Not like a flower or anything romantic like that, just... edible.

Boots.

He slid down a little more so he could reach his boot laces. Rol'ei lifted one foot, then another, so Ted could fumble with the laces and release his feet.

"Here, 'emme see." Yeah, definitely slurring.

Rol'ei put a hand on Ted's shoulder, steadying himself so Ted could lift each foot and check the bandaging. The clear plastic false skin looked like it'd held up fairly well during the day, only a couple little pockets of pooled blood inside. Boots did a good job of protecting the patch job.

"Ted?"

"Mmm?"

Rol'ei's hands clasped his shoulders, bringing him upright. Ted grinned as both men swayed a little with the motion.

"Stay here."

"Mmhmm."

Rol'ei disappeared for a moment, returning with a couple thin strips of fabric. Ted giggled.

"I'm wearin' that?"

"We are to wear these. Here, hold still."

Ted couldn't help but wiggle as Rol'ei's hands passed between his legs; even his tail trashed as he finished off the tie.

"Want me to do you?"

Rol'ei stared at him a moment; had he used the wrong "do"? Damn, translating drunk hurt his brain.  
The Singer shook his head. "No, I can put my thong on myself."

Ted slid back into a squat on the ground, his fingers pulling at his queue.

A leaf appeared in his field of vision, too close to actually focus on. Ted leaned back until he fell back on his ass.

"What's that?"

Rol'ei grinned. "You're next experience."

It sat plopped on a miniature leaf platter, much like the red paint that still crusted his body had. "More paint?"

Rol'ei laughed. "No. Do you wish to know what it is?"

Ted sniffed the offered paste. "Maybe?"

"It's two things, actually." Rol'ei swung around to sit down next to him, their sides touching. Warmth. Ted leaned into that lovely warmth. "...both things are toxic."

"Toxic?" At the moment, Rol'ei could read the ingredients on the prepackaged slop the RDA passed off as food and Ted'd be perfectly happy to stay right there.

"Very toxic. I mixed the venom sacks from the Kali'weya," Arachnoid, Ted's mind translated sluggishly. Like a really bad scorpion. Eighteen centimeters of fatal to humans. "and the Eltungawng." Glow worm; psychoactive alkaloid. 'Shrooms. In worm form. Glowy glowy worm form.

"That sounds... like a bad idea. Really bad idea." Ted squinted at his companion. He couldn't seriously be mashing those two seriously dangerous animals together.

"It will hurt, at first. I will be here."

"Hurt?"

Rol'ei nodded. He scooped a small measure, placed it on his own tongue. Rol'ei seemed to swallow forever. He scooped up more of the funky mass, with two fingers this time.

"Open wide, swallow slowly. Scream if you have to."

"Scream-" Rol'ei tucked his fingers into Ted's open mouth before he could argue farther. The pleasant sensation of his fingers in Ted's mouth was quickly replaced with painful burning.

"Swallow. Take it all or I'll have to force more in your mouth. Quickly, while you still have control."

He licked off every milligram of the concoction. It took every fiber of his being to obey the Singer's command.

"Good, that's it. Here, drink."

Ted fought the drink, expecting more of the toxic paste. The cold alcohol that finally made it past his lips soothed his tongue, but quickly centralized the burning; not on his tongue, but into his brain.

"Take more. It will help."

He guzzled down as much of the fermented juice as he could, but it did nothing to quench the fire raging within his body.

The last sensation he felt, before falling into that all encompassing inferno, was Rol'ei pulling him in tight against his chest, sticky fingers twining tight into his, holding him tight, grounding him when he would be lost to the firestorm.

Deep drum beats. Calling him back.

Soft piping. Violins. Some beautiful, classical piece he's never learned, would never learn, back home. So beautiful.

He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to see the instruments being played. The magic of the notes, interweaving, holding him and bringing him up, shouldn't be broken so crudely.

He sighed into it, relaxing. A soothing balm, he realized. Healing... some wound. He felt his brow furrow painfully. Healing him from what? He couldn't remember. He strained against the soothing, dulcet tones.

A tight grip to his hand, firm and painful, brought him slamming down into his own body.

His chest hurt for a moment, like someone had stabbed him right in the sternum, but cool fingers traced the hurt, easing it. The music swelled up again.

Ted risked opening his eyes. Darkness swirled around him. He closed them tightly. Oh man. He hadn't been this drunk since college. Maybe never. He groaned.

The song softened. Song? Yes, that was it, a multitude of voices, not instruments, flowing in and out.  
He opened his eyes again, realizing finally he lay curled up in the Singer's lap.

The na'vi looked down at him, his large eyes luminous, welcoming him into their golden depths. Flickering lights dappling his velvet dark skin flared, melting into the stars of the sky and back into his flesh.

He reached towards those flickering stars, hot breath caressing his fingertips. Lilting tones lifted up and down. He felt like he should be able to understand, but he couldn't. He pushed against those stars, trying to free himself from the confusion.

Soothing cool enveloped his cheek, stilled his mind, bringing it down until only the luminous eyes above him existed.

"Beautiful."

"Bee... ooo tea sul?"

"Mmm."

Bubbling laughter, bringing him up. He swayed. No, arms holding him upright. His toes deep in the moist soil below, every flex sending out radiant ripples of glowing green. His palms pressing into warm flesh. Different glow from the ground. Little dappling lines, luring him up to luscious blue lips. They tasted so good. Sweetest nectar, most painful burn.

Ted pulled back from that deep well to look around, falling back against the stable warmth of the Singer's chest. Star people all around him, swaying in time with the song.

A deep yip reverberated through his chest. For a long, desperate, agonizing moment there was silence. Throbbing from under foot pulsed through his legs, increasing the tension. His heart raced, higher and higher.

Some unseen signal sent the star clusters up, jumping, whooping, the quiet throb of drums suddenly a steady, open beat.

"Beeooteasul."

Ted turned back, grinned at the lovely smile that greeted him. Strong hands took his, spun him about and into the crowd. Laughing, jostling, dancing.

The movement cleared Ted's mind some. He could recognize Rol'ei in the groups, tried to stay close whenever the press of bodies separated them. Sinuous, mostly naked bodies, slick with sweat surrounded him. A flash of a memory, the girl from before wrapping herself around the Singer. Ted groaned.

He worked his way back to Rol'ei's side. The Singer caught his hand, peered closely into his eyes, said something. Ted tried to focus but the words weren't there.

"I need to go back."

Rol'ei looked just as confused. Ted shook his head, instantly regretted it. He tugged on Rol'ei's arm. The Na'vi followed as Ted pushed his way through the dancing throngs.

The break into fresh air, the relief of open space, left Ted breathless.

"Ted!" The rest of the words lost.

Ted shook his head, slowly, trying to get across what he couldn't say.

Rol'ei's cool hand on his forehead soothed him. Bed. Only thing for this much alcohol is bed.

The trip back to the bunkhouse took a month, maybe two. The forest swallowing them, only to shit them out and start the whole process again. The camp looked alien and barren in the dark, the bioluminescence gone over the concrete. Dark desert. Dry dry and endless.

The bunkhouse stood like an oasis. Ted plunged his head into the container that collected rainwater, slurping down as much as his stomach could hold.

Rol'ei pulled his head out before he could fully quench the sandpaper tongue.

He walked on hands and feet up the few steps to the sleeping area. The latch on the door stumped him for a moment but his fingers seemed to know what to do about it. Rol'ei followed him in, closed the door behind them.

Ted barely registered the empty bodies in their cots as he collapsed in his own. His stomach hammered up its declaration, stating demands for a republic free of the tyranny the rest of the empire represented.

He stayed still, warring with the mixed signals his body offered until everything settled down. The moment he could, he closed his eyes and gave up the fight.

The shock from going from totally wasted to completely sober in an instant had Ted blinking for a few moments.

"You okay? You look like you're in shock there."

He pushed up on the lid of the link-up.

"I was invited to a celebration. Rol'ei got me a bit drunk."

"That'd explain all the singing going on," Lisa said with a smile.

"Would you mind checking my body? I'm not sure it can handle everything thrown at it."

"Whoa no, I'm off to bed. I was just coming in to check on you. You know where the med kits are. You can take care of yourself."

"Gee, thanks, you're a helpful medic."

"I'm a tired medic who has enough to deal with, without taking care of the voluntarily impaired. Toodles. Enjoy your hangover."

She waved over her shoulder. A quick trip to the clinic got him the breathalyzer and detoxifying pills; not a cure for the upcoming torment, but a minimizer.

Ted picked up a spare exopack, pulled on the mask, and headed for the airlock.

The sky held darkness and little else. He stood for a moment, enjoying the feel of the wind. Dim lights glittered in the distance, the stars his avatar eyes had seen. He smiled and headed to the bunkhouse.

The sight that met him stopped him at the doorway.

Rol'ei had his body curled around that of his avatar, their nearly naked bodies spooned tightly together on his cot designed only for one.

"Rol'ei!" Ted came over to the Singer's side, touched his shoulder, his cheek. The Singer's eyes couldn't focus on him; tears streamed down his cheeks. He shoved weakly at the much smaller human. "Rol'ei, be still, it is me."

The words in Na'vi seemed to cut through Rol'ei's haze.

"Ted?"

"Yes, it is me, Great Singer."

Rol'ei's hand went from the empty avatar to the edges of Ted's exopack mask. Ted covered his hand with his own, as much to touch as to keep him from inadvertently pulling the mask off.

"Oel ngati kameie, Ted."

"Oel ngati kameie, Rol'ei."

"You collapsed, you wouldn't speak to me, and you came here and you collapsed."

"Breathe into this for me," Ted stated calmly.

Ted put the breathalyzer to the Singers lips. It read a medium level of alcohol. It couldn't read whatever toxins were in that mash from earlier. He'd simply have to trust Rol'ei knew what he had made. He reset the machine and set it against the lips of his avatar; his body had nearly double levels of alcohol in his system. He shook out two tablets of the detoxifier, slipped them deep enough down his avatar's throat that the automatic responses swallowed them.

He put a tablet on Rol'ei's tongue. He made a face.

"You have made me swallow worse. It will help."

He swallowed.

"You left me."

Ted took Rol'ei's questing hand.

"I'm here."

Rol'ei's eyes flickered closed. Ted shuffled a little, getting into a more comfortable position. He set the packet of tablets aside so he could trace the sweat-damp braids on the Singer's brow.

"Beeooteasul. What does that mean?"

"A word in my language. It means... a pleasure to look at," Ted fought with the words, trying to find the right ones.

Golden eyes peered into his. A blue thumb caressed the glass of the mask. The eyes drooped closed again. He'd be as deeply asleep as Ted's avatar in a moment, between the drink, the venom, and the detox.

As Rol'ei's muscles relaxed, Ted slowly rolled him over to curl around the avatar. They looked like a matched set. Ted smiled. A set of drunkards.

"Don't leave."

Ted frowned. Probably just sleep talk... he sighed. There weren't many chairs in the bunk house, but he pulled one over. Arms folded on the cot, cheek resting on the Singer's shoulder, he settled down to nap and keep an eye on the both of them.

If there were any ill effects from anything, he'd be woken up by Rol'ei.

* * *

bluestonearcher DA /art/Unconscious-186597613

* * *

Eywa – the Spirit Mother, Goddess  
Lisa – Lisa Furlan, medic and language expert  
Mo'at – Omaticaya's Tsahik, spiritual leader or shaman for the clan  
Rol'ei – Singer for the Ikran Clan  
Ted – Edward Cera, Avatar ethnobotanist. A specialist in nutritional values of Pandoran plants.

Kelutrel, or Hometree – burnt down, the scene for most of my fic.  
Utral Aymokriya, Tree of Voices, the great spirit tree that the Omaticaya Clan has retreated to.  
Tsahaylu (Ted commonly mis-says "the halo" without realizing it) - the bond/neural connection  
Tsahik - shaman, matriarch  
Olo'eyktan - clan leader  
Oel ngati kameie – I See you


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A great, gray expanse.

Rol'ei walked in this alien world apart from it, not able to touch, or smell, or truly see this abysmal place. Smoke filled the air, somehow worse than any fire he had lived through before, even from the terrible battle...

He'd been following someone, running hand-in-hand. He could still feel that touch, but when he looked down he saw nothing but firm, darker smoke in his grip. He held onto it tightly, nothing else here holding substance.

He sought out some hint of life, some filament of what could be, and found nothing but loneliness, sadness. He'd never walked this plane alone before.

And then, that last touch slipped away from him.

He clawed against the sacred drug, fighting to resurface back in the waking world. The dream too dark, too painful.

His name in the dark. He ran, clawed, swam, pushed through the impenetrable sooty darkness.

A flicker of light called to him. He followed.

A strange figure waited for him, not exactly in this plane, not existing with him here, but seeking him out.

"Ted?"

"Yes, it is me, Great Singer."

Shining in the dark, not one but two bodies, within the same moment existing, and not, beside one another and within the same space. Rol'ei saw the familiar na'vi within the otherness of the tawtute face, one-in-the-same.

He reached out, trying to encompass that beloved face within his hands, only to be met by unnatural cold smoothness, still water not quite cold enough to be ice.

"Oel ngati kameie, Ted." For the first time, I truly see you.

"Oel ngati kameie, Rol'ei." The smile granted to him that of a parent placating a child.

Rol'ei tried to explain to the unusual spirit, ask for guidance in this disconsolate realm.

A bitter pebble was placed on his tongue. The spirit ordered him to swallow, so he did.

"You left me." Even here, he felt shame at the accusation in his tone. Why had Ted let him alone here? Could the tawtute offer no better realm of Dreaming? Why had he not warned the Singer, had not stayed to lead him?

Warmth, solid warmth filled his hand. The grip small, like that of a child, but firm and reassuring.

"I'm here."

A touch caressed his brow, drawing his eyes closed. Rol'ei's grip on even the dark slipped from his fingers like sand.

"Beeooteasul. What does that mean?"

"A word in my language. It means... a pleasure to look at."

He fought to gaze again at that strange double creature. How can one have words for pleasure, for beauty, when their Dreams held so little, the emptiness so massive and heart-breaking.

He felt the answer shimmering in those strange eyes, at once golden then green, then both at once. If only he had the heart to pluck it out of the sky to give it to him.

Exhausted, he felt his eyelids drift closed once more. Small hands touched his body, curling him around a familiar warmth, before drifting away.

"Don't leave."

They returned, touching his shoulder and neck briefly before the touch of that cool smoothness pressed against his shoulder.

Finally, he let his mind slip back into that dreadful oblivion.

When he finally woke, he had a long moment of confusion. His head felt clear, clearer than he'd ever experienced after a night of seeking true Dreams. However, he couldn't remember walking to the dreamwalker's sleeping area.

His hand held Ted's, tight enough his fingertips felt numb. A warm arm wrapped around his chest; the comforting feeling of sleeping with a group nearly lulling him back... but the primitive fear of returning to a dark realm half remembered kept him from closing his eyes.

Rol'ei forced his stiff body to move slowly, lest he shove his sleeping companion off of the narrow cot. He touched Ted's chin, turning his face up. He wondered when the dreamwalker would awaken, their sleep so strange and deep.

Never before had the Singer sought the true Dreams without a connection, without using tsahaylu to bond with Eywa or another member of the people or Ratche, his ikran. He should have connected with the dreamwalker, led them both to the Tree of Voices so that he could guide him into the songs of the past...

"Good morning."

Rol'ei jerked up, surprised by the tawtute behind him. The toothy grin finally helped him recognize Ted within the strange pinkish flesh.

"Ted."

"Yes," he said, still smiling, "Although I thought we went over that last night, I suppose you don't remember. How are you feeling?"

He considered it a moment; he didn't feel as quick as normal, his mind lingering on Ted's comments before he could think on his own body. Had he been with him in the Dream? Had they connected, somehow?

"Thirsty," he said, finally.

"That's to be expected, after that much to drink." The little tawtute stood. Somehow, even after the strange Dream, Rol'ei had a difficult time seeing Ted's beautiful lean blue body as the same person who stood before him. "Wait a moment, and I'll come back and we can both get some breakfast."

His cheeks turned red, his eyes traveling up and down Rol'ei's body.

"Clothes too."

Rol'ei raised his hand to stop him, but the small man had already disappeared down the steps, making for the alien stone buildings. He sighed and let his body slide back down onto the cot. Perhaps now wouldn't be the best time to try to see the insides yet. He didn't have the heart to face anymore dark, tawtute sickened places.

He turned back to Ted's body, not so much asleep he now remembered, but not occupied. A ghost... not quite dead, but waiting for its spirit to return.

With a careful hand, he smoothed away some limp strands of hair, gently traced the lines he had painted the day before, sought any sign of the spirit the body held... waited for. The body breathed, his heart beat a pure, strong rhythm, a great drum within the narrowly muscled chest.

Curiosity fired within his belly. He had noticed subtle differences before, but with Ted not reacting, his fingers quested farther; he examined the strange fifth fingers on his hands, the way the lines in his palms looked different, the way his toes looked a bit smaller, closer together, even though if he held his foot next to the dreamwalker's, his looked quite a bit more narrow. His skin looked a bit different, warmer in tone. He'd noticed how blood came up to the surface of his face easily, a trait his smaller body seemed to follow.

For a moment, his hand hovered over the tie of his loincloth, tempted to closely examine other differences, ones he'd noticed in passing while he'd prepared Ted for the ceremony, even though he had not done anything of the like since his childhood.

Instead, he cupped the curved cheek again. All of the dreamwalkers looked different from the people, but in different ways. The most common, he noticed, was the nose and ears; Ted had a narrower nose, with a bit more character at the bottom than, say Torukmakto had. His ears smaller as well, and less expressive... his smile made up for that flaw.

Rol'ei opened one eye with his fingers, gently, and looked into the vacant depth. He could see, now that his nose very nearly touched the Dreamwalkers, that there were indeed small sparks of alien green within the gold.

Existing, and not, within the same body. One-in-the-same. Realizations from his walk in the Dreams came back to him, along with a painful ache within his heart. Such loneliness.

He didn't quite know when it happened, when Ted returned to him, but between one heartbeat and the next, he went from holding an empty shell, to embracing another man... holding his eye open and examining him.

Ted didn't say anything, just stayed still underneath him.

Taboo.

Not exactly taboo, but suddenly he felt the shame as if he had been doing something forbidden. Sleeping with others, for warmth, for comfort, to feel a part of the tribe, meant nothing. Where did such a feeling come from?

He released Ted's eye, wondering.

Again, the Dreamwalker's skin changed colors. Rol'ei's fingers traced the flare without a thought, marveling at the purplish cover tinting his cheeks, his throat... where ever he touched was quickly followed by the change. Even his lips.

"Rol'ei.. I..."

"Hey boys!"

Rol'ei looked up at the woman, the Dreamwalker m'dic from before.

"Good morning, Lisa," Rol'ei greeted, using the phrase Ted had used.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Ted pulled himself up into a sitting position, then wobbly to his feet.

"Whoa," she said, the strange sound amusing the Singer. "Easy. Your body probably isn't ready for that yet."

Ted remained awkwardly standing, very still, facing the fine mesh wall, away from them. Rol'ei and Lisa exchanged a glance.

"Do you remember where the rainwater collectors are? The barrels?"

Rol'ei nodded, not exactly sure he knew the words she stated but understanding they needed privacy. Uncertainty burbled in his stomach as he went outside. His feet brought him to a large container, a vague memory of pulling Ted from it swam to the surface. He cupped his hands and drank deeply.

The two of them seem quite comfortable with each other... perhaps they are mated?

Rol'ei shook his head. If they were, why would it matter to him?

He planted his palms on the rim of the stiff container, facing his rippling reflection in the water. Here, away from the forest, the morning had an eerie quiet calm. Other than the quiet murmurs of the two dreamwalkers talking to one another.

He closed his eyes, tried to focus on listening to their words... clear enough, but not in a language he could understand. Then, retching. His hands tightened into fists at the sound of Ted being sick up in the cabin.

After a few, painful, silent moments, Lisa came down with a bundle of green and tan in her arms.

"These are for you," she said, quietly. "He said you guys left your clothing at the celebration last night."

"I don't need them," Rol'ei said, not exactly meeting her gaze.

"Ted thought the boots helped you yesterday."

He mad a non-committal noise.

A cool hand touched his forehead.

"No fever. You don't look as bad off as he does. Are you feeling sick to your stomach?"

"Like him? No."

Rol'ei turned away from the dreamwalker and headed into the forest. His feelings in turmoil, and not knowing why, he wanted, needed, to be surrounded by the beautiful forest. To see Ratche and see if she could fly with him, needed to feel that connection with someone. As soon as he felt the soil give beneath his feet, he began to run. The wound in his leg burned. The soles of his feet ached in a strange, disconnected way. He ran until he couldn't feel any of it anymore, until he was deep in the forest and could climb up high enough that his ikran might be able to hear him.

He batted tears away from his eyes as he whistled for her. Peeled the strange false skin from his feet as he waited. Right now, he wanted nothing of the strangers.

She came, Eywa bless her. She nuzzled into his shoulder, knowing his distress before he connected with her. With a painful whoop, they took off into the air, both hurting enough that they couldn't fly as fast, or as far, as either would like, but the wind, and the sun, and Eywa's great presence eased some of the ache.

Ratche circled back to where she had been roosting on her own; a common enough habit when Rol'ei's mind was elsewhere. He noticed, with a frown, that she'd made sure her spot was far away from the others. She trilled to them, but they hissed and went back to their small bickering.

Even with their flock at home, she was a bit of an outsider, but here her bigger, ocean body, with its larger, more dramatic markings made her stand out more than usual.

Before he disconnected with her, he motioned a pack of small children playing over. He showed the youngest where she liked to be scratched and smiled with delight as all the others swarmed his ikran.

He didn't know if it was all the time he spent Singing, or with her in the realm of dreams, or just her own personality, but he'd never met a friendlier one. And she loved the younglings. A time or two he'd caught the younger members of his tribe climbing on her back. She didn't connect or fly with them, but happily romped on the ground in strange little hops.

Rol'ei suddenly wished he'd brought some of her toys for the kids to play with. Her favorite game they couldn't do, tossing a toy made of rags over the cliffs and into the surf for her to dive after, but maybe her ball...

He left her to their surprised delight and wandered the camp.

His feet took him to a familiar fire site; it took the Singer a moment to remember why.

"Hello, Great Singer," he matron from... was it really only last night? ...greeted him.

He nodded to her and sat with his fingers to the fire, feeling cold all over.

"I don't have anything fresh ready right now... but that look in your eye tells me you haven't returned to my fire for food."

"Look in my eye?"

She nodded and sat next to him, offering him a water skin. He took it gratefully and took a swig.

"I've seen some powerful Tsahiks and Singers in my time, youngling." Rol'ei smiled, not having been called that in ages. "And I know the look of someone who has walked in Dreams and received perhaps a painful message."

Rol'ei dripped his head, his hand covering his eyes.

"Perhaps Mo'at would be of help to you-"

"No! No, it is nothing. It was just not what I expected."

The older Omaticaya nodded, sagely, prodding a rock into the fire pit with a toe.

"In this clan, when a Singer, or a Shaman, or a new hunter, wishes to preform that ceremony, they remain close. Perhaps they even remain at the Utral Aymokriya so that they might commune with Eywa and the voices of the past."

Rol'ei nodded. That had been his intention.

"Where is your student?"

"My student?"

"Your 'little singer,' the others are calling him. The dreamwalker. He left early last night, you followed, and now he is not with you."

"He is with his own kind."

"Ah, I see. So, after last night, he is no longer your student?"

He couldn't deny that's what he'd been spending most of his time today thinking about.

The older woman clucked her tongue disappointingly. "Surely what you saw in the dream couldn't have been that bad, hm? What could Eywa say that would make you turn so quiet and angry today."

"I am not angry."

"Oh? Hmph." She stood, using his shoulder to brace herself, then patted him on the top of the head like a child. "Well, if you are giving him up as a student, you should tell him at least, so he understands why he has offended the Great Singer of the Ikran Clan, for surely no one here understands it."

He watched her as she gathered a bundle of cordage.

"You might as well go home, for that matter."

"Go home?"

She nodded. "Yes, go home. You've closed yourself up, I've seen it enough to know the signs. The Omaticaya have no need for a singer who has pulled back from the world. We have healers and warriors enough to take care of the rest. Say your farewells and show us your tail."

With that she walked away from him. He groaned as he got up to follow.

"What do you mean I've closed up?"

She clunked a loosely closed fist against his temple. "In here." She tapped his heart. "And here. You've been hurt, or you're afraid of being hurt. Eywa showed you something you are afraid of, and so you pulled away from it."

"I am not afraid!"

"Oh? Hmph." She turned to where a cluster of older Omaticaya were assembling new looms. "I could have sworn you were afraid. I suppose I saw wrong. Why did you stay, when most of the ikran returned to the ocean?"

"I wanted to learn the story, the Song that waited for me here."

"Are all Songs easy?"

"Not in the learning, or the telling."

"Sometimes painful."

"Of course. A lesson hard learned makes for a better Song."

"Ah." She glanced up at him, a smile playing in her eyes.

He frowned and sighed.

"Go find your student, Great Singer. I doubt many others have the stomach to learn the song the dreamwalkers have to tell. It will be heard, but there will be a great song, if only one can sing it."

"When did you get to be so wise?"

She made a rude noise and shoved him gently in the shoulder. "Off with you. I've work to do."

Rol'ei walked back, rather than call Ratche again. The more rest he could give her, the faster she would heal. By the time he returned to the tawtute's compound, he felt like he needed the rest to heal himself.

He found a rock to sit on, and watched as a couple of the dreamwalkers, a pair he didn't know, worked in the area around the cabin. Here, the plants grew in unnaturally neat rows; a strange forest indeed.

"Ah, you're back."

Rol'ei glanced up at the m'dic, Lisa. He nodded.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, and no. Where is Ted? I need to apologize."

"I'd say you do." Rol'ei blinked in surprise at the bitterness in her voice. She waved off back into the forest. "He's off gathering seeds. I have work to do."

With that she stalked off herself, her roundish rump swinging back and forth dramatically, her tail swishing angrily. Rol'ei considered following her a moment, then disappeared back into the brush, preferring to seek out his "student" alone.

* * *

He stalked his prey, wishing his thigh wasn't injured, or he was more skilled, but the dreamwalker took no notice of what Rol'ei considered to be noticeable scrambles on the trees.

He watched as Ted hiked through the forest, back in long pants, shirt, and over-shirt, even a hat now. Covering everything. Rol'ei frowned, wondered if he'd already washed off the dye from the night before. He couldn't see a single facial feature, thanks to that wide brim.

He clenched his hands against the rough bark of the tree he hid on... his fingers itched to take off all that damn clothing. ...Why did he want to take it off again? Why did it matter?

He shook his head and climbed down the tree.

Rol'ei wanted, needed, more time to untangle everything going on in his mind, in his belly, but the matron had the right of it. Whatever bothered him, he didn't understand it, and that was more a reason to poke it and explore the strangeness. Not run away.

He didn't necessarily sneak up on the dreamwalker, but when Ted finally saw him a myriad of emotions flickered across his expressive face within a moment. Did the Singer see joy? Hope? Certainly frustration... maybe...

"Rol'ei... how did you find me?"

The singer bit his lower lip, suddenly uncertain again. "Lisa told me you were looking for seeds. I simply followed where she pointed."

Ted turned and walked away. Rol'ei stood still, stunned that the dreamwalker would just dismiss him without a word. He had a long, pointed stick which he used to poke at the soil a few steps away, separating it so he could kneel and dig out a tuber.

"These roots only grow in the shade of the forest; we can't grow them in the garden. They're quiet delicious. ...so, why did you run away this morning?"

Rol'ei hesitantly followed, knelt beside him, thrust his hands into the soil to help push aside the crumbling dirt. Their fingers grazed as they worked. He couldn't meet Ted's eyes.

"You... turned your back, this morning, after I touched you. You were sick." Suddenly, everything came tumbling out of his mouth in an embarrassingly awkward mess. "Last night, I didn't explain the ceremony to you, I thought... you're an adult, I assumed you'd had some experience... when you ran away, I had to follow, and then you were gone before I could guide you in Dreams. I should have told you, kept you with me... I wanted to share something special with you, so you could experience Eywa and... instead... instead there was only darkness and loneliness and-"

"Rol'ei, it's okay. I was sick from that paste and the alcohol. This was the first time I drank in this body, and I chugged quite a lot of that fermented fruit to try to wash out the horrible taste from my mouth."

Rol'ei smirked a little, still couldn't look up. Not yet. "It does burn, doesn't it?"

Ted laughed. "That, my friend, is an understatement. Come on, I think I see another root bundle over there to harvest."

They replaced the soil they'd previously unturned, patted it down, and went to the next spot.

"I was angry."

"Angry?"

"At you, for running away. From turning away from a gift. From turning away from me. I wanted to show you something wonderful and... maybe learn a bit about you as well. I've preformed this ceremony many times, and I've always connected with someone, Eywa, or another member of my clan, or Ratche-"

"Ratche?"

"My ikran."

"Wait... you 'connect' with you're ikran, then... how was it you said, dreamed? As in, you let yourself go into a drugged stupor while she flew you?"

Rol'ei smiled. "She is not a mindless beast. She lived a long, healthy life before me, and would continue fine without me. When I go into the dream with her, she has the control. She allows me to travel with her, understand her mind as she flies, fishes. Everything is so different with her, I see through her eyes, I am her while she flies and I walk the dream."

"And, what, you wanted me to walk with you, connected to her?"

"No!" Rol'ei grabbed Ted's hand, stopping his nervous digging. "No. I wanted us both to connect to Utral Aymokriya... so I could touch you're mind, and you could touch mine." He frowned at the admission, nervous, and not quite knowing the why of it. "When I Dreamed last night, I wanted to walk with you. I wanted to see your world, truly see you...

"Instead, all I saw was smoke, empty destruction. Grey... sadness. Loneliness. Nothing connected, nothing felt right."

"That sounds like the world I left." Ted's hand gripped Rol'ei's tightly. "But this is my world now. Why..." He sighed, cupped Rol'ei's face in his hands so the Singer had no choice but stare into the dreamwalker's eyes. "Why did you want to connect with me? Did... does it have something to do with this morning?"

"With me storming off like a youngling who doesn't know his own heart?" Mind... mind, he meant to say mind. Why, of all times, couldn't he string together the right words?

"No, when you were..." Ted's thumbs stroked the Singer's cheeks. Rol'ei felt his heart race at the gentle touch.

A few alien words spilled from Ted's lips, so fast Rol'ei barely heard them, maybe "O-el?", before the dreamwalker's lips fell down on his.

Rol'ei froze, shocked. Ted had his eyes closed. His lips so soft... hands gentle along Rol'ei's cheek, one hand curling to cup the base of his skull... when he touched the tender spot where Rol'ei's queue began; he groaned in pleasure.

The dreamwalker slipped his tongue into Rol'ei's mouth, delving, probing, inviting the Singer to try the same. They sucked and nibbled, Rol'ei a quick enough study and hungry to taste, to feel...

His hands tugged urgently at the damn shirt Ted wore with its infuriating buttons; he'd popped two before Ted, chuckling, nimbly undid the rest. His hands traced along the dreamwalker's firm chest, up his shoulders, and slid the cloth down his arms and unceremoniously onto the ground. Rol'ei swallowed, his mouth dry, uncertain, panting hard and a touch dizzy.

Ted glanced around, then took Rol'ei's hand.

"Come on, let's find a tree to climb, or go back to the cabin. I'm not exactly comfortable doing this where predators can catch us unaware."

How he could climb at a time like this, Rol'ei couldn't guess, especially with boots on. He let the dreamwalker guide him up into a tree with very smooth skin, and let himself get perched on a branch wider than the cot Ted called his own.

Ted pushed him down onto his back, laid over him and their lips resumed their beautiful dance. Rol'ei threw his head back and gasped as Ted's questing tongue and teeth traveled down his neck, his chest, tantalized his nipples, sending bright shivers down his spine, down to...his fingers tangled in Ted's hair, holding him tight to his body.

"Rol'ei," he whispered, his voice urgent with his own need. "Rol'ei... have you ever done this before? With a man?"

The Singer shook his head; his eyes couldn't quiet focus on the man above him.

"Then we're going to do something special, since I don't have any lube on hand."

"Lube?" Rol'ei duplicated the sound, uncomprehending. The dreamwalker just shook his head, before returning to his ministrations. His sweeping tongue and kisses nearly distracted him Ted's hand awkwardly working at the buttons on his pants.

A warm hand slid between their bodies, deftly releasing Rol'ei's painfully hard dick from his loincloth. Ted's strong, alien hand pressed the throbbing fresh against the dreamwalker's bare stomach. Rol'ei's pleasured groan was cut short with the return of Ted's hot, moist lips. Rol'ei gripped hard on his shoulders as those lovely fingers stroked him firmly, knowingly.

Rol'ei's hips ground up against Ted's hot body, wanting more, needing more. He whimpered with the wanting. Ted's tongue rhythmically pushed into his mouth, thrusting in time with the strokes of his hand. Then, a small pause in his body, Ted shifted and a new heat mirrored his.

Rol'ei spared a glance down between their bodies, Ted's dick sprouting from the opening in the khaki pants, hard as stone and as alive as anything. Ted wrapped his long fingers around the both of them, squeezing their members together almost painfully. His hips seemingly thrust into that hand without him, goaded by nothing more than the heat and pressure from another man.

They clutched, kissed, and ground against one another desperately.

It felt so strange, feeling a hand gripping him, another body on him... a male body all hard planes and sharp edges... without truly connecting with him. There, and yet not. He groaned in frustration, his hand clenching against Ted's back, wanting to make him stop, wanting to push just a little farther.

Ted's thumb flicked over the tip of his cock, explored the sensitive ridges, stroked and toyed and built him up faster than the Singer had ever experienced.

When he came, it was a surprised explosion of release and emotion. He blinked several times, still panting hard and clutching Ted close. The dreamwalker's hand pumped a moment longer before he jerked still, his seed spilling out between their bodies. Rol'ei covered Ted's hand with his, milking the both of them for their last drops.

Rol'ei smiled up, enjoying the sight, the way the light cast the dreamwalker's face and body in shadow, his ribs working like a bellows. Ted captured his hands then, dragged them above their heads and kissed him hard on the mouth before collapsing heavily on top of him.

He moaned in pleasure, tried to memorize the smells of their mingled fluids, the feel of his body limp over him. They held each other tightly, arms and legs intertwined. Neither saying a word, for a very long time.

* * *

bluestonearcher DA /art/Naughty-192976125

* * *

Eywa – the Spirit Mother, Goddess  
Lisa – Lisa Furlan, medic and language expert  
Rol'ei – Singer for the Ikran Clan  
Ted – Edward Cera, Avatar ethnobotanist. A specialist in nutritional values of Pandoran plants.

Utral Aymokriya, Tree of Voices, the great spirit tree that the Omaticaya Clan has retreated to.  
Tsahaylu (Ted commonly mis-says "the halo" without realizing it) - the bond/neural connection  
Tsahik - shaman, matriarch  
Tawtute – Sky People  
Ikran (Banshee) – Four-winged flying mount, wingspan 13.9 meters (with Sea ikran easily reaching 15 or more)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Ted nuzzled deep into the crook of Rol'ei's neck. Shit, what had he done.

If Grace were still here, she'd have his blue hide tanned and stretched above her bed for potentially turning a society on its head; they'd never seen evidence of homosexual behavior within the Na'vi in their observations... at least not among the Omaticaya. Perhaps Ikran Clan of the Eastern Sea were okay with it? Rol'ei certainly seemed more than okay with it. Ted hoped.

He swallowed hard and bit his lower lip. Damn. Impulsive. Horny. Behavior.

Just as a swamp of self-recriminations began to flood him, tender hands stroked his back. Ted leaned up on his elbows, twitching a little at the damp vinyl sound of their bodies separating.

"That was nice?"

Ted laughed at that lazy-ass grin on Rol'ei's face, the worries eating at him slipping away.

"Very nice," Ted replied, nibbling at Rol'ei's lovely jaw. "Rol'ei, I..." He shook his head, finding it hard to get out what he wanted to.

"Shh..." The finger Rol'ei placed on Ted's lips smelled of their mingled fun. "I need some time."

Ted nodded. That he could use more of himself.

"Come back with me, please. I don't... I don't want to be alone now."

Ted nodded. He didn't really want to get up yet, his usual habit after getting off that hard more along the lines of either a) cuddling until he could get it up again, or b) crashing and falling asleep for the rest of the night.

Rol'ei slid out from under him, offered him a hand up. Ted smiled at the tremors in his arms; nothing like holding your weight up and trying to jerk two dicks at the same time for a good workout. Ted surreptitiously slipped himself back into his pants. Rol'ei had an easier job with sliding his loincloth back in place.

They climbed down the tree; Ted felt a little better that the Singer looked a bit weak-kneed himself.

Ted picked up the messenger bag he'd been using to hold the sweet roots he'd been digging... almost like sweet potatoes; his favorite comfort food after a break-up. Guess he didn't need them now. Hopefully still won't. Rol'ei bent and picked up Ted's shirt before he could reach for it. The Singer rolled the shirt up and tucked it into the bag before Ted could protest. The straw hat he'd painstakingly wove also got rolled up. Ted tried to not make a face; that hat took forever to get right with these damn ears.

Rol'ei stood before Ted. He looked like he wanted to say something, something important the way he puffed up his chest like he was about to use his big orator's voice. Ted lifted his chin, ready for anything. He hoped.

The Singer touched Ted's forearm, his shoulder, then cupped his jaw hard between his two strong hands. His eyes big, wavering, uncertain. Ted hoped, and hoped, he felt his heart open and empty before him, ready to give all he had to bring that confident smile back, to feel that lovely sinuous blue body under his again. Ted mirrored Rol'ei's hands, holding him just as hard. They leaned closer, foreheads touching. Ted let his eyelids close and just allowed himself to breathe in Rol'ei's distinct scent.

Separating felt like they were leaving something behind. Rol'ei took the carbon reinforced pole, re-purposed as his digging stick, and used it to lean on as they walked deeper into the woods. Ted watched his gate carefully, worried a moment that he might've pressed his weight into that damaged thigh. What positions would be good to make that more comfortable...?

Ted shook his head. Perhaps a little early to be thinking that a second bit of play was in the works.

He offered Rol'ei his hand on an incline. He received a wry look. Ted walked next to him, trying not to notice the slower pace uphill, and stopped when he stopped at the top. Here, where he no longer needed the support, Rol'ei held his hand out. Ted took it.

Ted felt a bit like an idiot teenager, his stomach cold with drying semen, holding the hand of a new lover as they walked. He considered taking his shirt out again to wipe up the mess, but didn't really want to have to explain those stains later on. Rol'ei, thankfully, seemed to have a similar idea.

Ted smiled at the creek the Singer had led them too.

"Can you swim?"

"Minnesota-state champion in the breath-stroke and free-style for four years, life guard for two."

Rol'ei shook his head, the English meaning nothing to him. "I have experience," Ted said in Na'vi, more simply.

He took off the bag, felt his skin heat once again as Rol'ei watched him. He smiled to the na'vi, trying to feel more confident now, but that's always easier said than done, and a few moments of intimacy didn't necessarily mean instantly being comfortable naked. He considered simply jumping into the water with his pants on, but Rol'ei eyes flicking between his pants and his eyes stayed him. He sighed, giving up an argument that hadn't even happened. Ted gnawed on his lower lip, undoing button fly, and pealing down his khakis and boxers. He looked up in time to see Rol'ei's adam's apple bob a couple times. He kicked off his boots and the rest with a small smile.

"Do you need help?" Ted asked the still Singer.

Rol'ei shook his head, the beads in his hair clacking loudly. He untied his loincloth quickly and made for the water.

Ted watched him move, feeling like at least this barrier was down, not that there wasn't practically as much skin to see before.

"Why are you smirking?" Rol'ei asked.

Ted chewed on his upper lip, trying to stop the smile.

"You have what the Sky People call a lovely 'bubble butt.'"

Rol'ei repeated the English phrase nearly perfectly. Ted cringed, wishing he hadn't said that. He grumbled.

"You said that before too, that 'O-el.' What does that mean?"

"'Oh hell,'" Ted repeated, slowly, wishing he hadn't mumbled it the second time. "It means... its just a phrase of frustration."

"And the other one, before that?"

Ted sighed, slipping into the water. "I don't know the translation," he said honestly. He scrubbed at his stomach and chest with his fingernails until the slimy feeling drifted off. Rol'ei dipped completely under and swam the length of the creek.

When he came up, his long hair clung to him attractively.

Ted grinned. "You're strokes are sure."

"So are yours."

Ted groaned and let himself fall into the water.

Rol'ei swam up to him quickly. Sure hands lifted him out of the water.

"Are you okay? I didn't-"

"No, I'm fine," Ted said, feeling like his skin might burst into flames. "I just hadn't intended that to be a..." damn. Why hadn't Grace figured out the words for sexual innuendo? Probably because she didn't think they were needed. "Come on, I haven't swam in ages."

Ted pushed off into a breath stroke. His lean body fell into the familiar pattern as though he'd been practicing with the nine-foot-frame all his life. Damn, if only he'd had this body when he was actively competing. He would have won the butterfly by half a mile.

He finally paused at a bend, where the water gathered in a deep pool before tumbling down a small waterfall and traveling on its way. If they wanted to continue in this direction, they'd have to get out and climb down.

Rol'ei's body undulated like a serpentine water creature as he darted past Ted with a splash.

"You kept up!"

Rol'ei laughed, spraying Ted with some water. "The Ikran Clan lives on the ocean my... friend. We all swim. I am surprised the dreamwalkers can swim so well."

"I don't know about the others, but I enjoy it. I should have been doing this every day."

Ted threw back his head to soak his hair through again.

A stillness overtook Rol'ei again, the stillness that told Ted he was heavy in thought. Ted tread water, but otherwise remained still, when Rol'ei reached behind him and gently untied the cord he'd been using to hold back his ponytail. Unlike the others, he'd never gotten around to doing all the little braids and decorating his hair. Sure, he had his queue braided up, but the rest he liked to be able to brush out and tie back in the simple ponytail he preferred as a human.

Rol'ei's fingers drew his wet hair forward, covering his face a moment, before sweeping it back again.

Ted took Rol'ei's hands in his, kissed each palm, then dove away. They played in the water, splashing back and forth until Ted finally gave up and headed back for where they'd first gotten in.

Since this story is "in process" I figured I'd put up some in process art as well to go along with things. I'll change the link over to the finished piece once it's done.

bluestonearcher DA /art/Skinny-Dipping-Sketch-190904897

He sat on the edge of the water, his butt still a couple inches deep. He squeezed the excess water out of his hair as Rol'ei caught up with him.

"Tired?" the Singer asked.

Ted shrugged non-committaly.

Ted wished the Singer would swim up between his legs... he had enough space in this spot, if they were careful, he could show Rol'ei some more fun two men could do with each other. Water wasn't viscus enough to be a good lube, but oh nelly did Ted want to try tasting every inch of the Singer's skin.

Instead, the na'vi pulled up beside him. He let his braids hang loose, miniature rivers poring down each individual one. While Ted's hands worked down his queue, Rol'ei's fingers tucked a bit of hair behind an ear.

"Why haven't you braided it?" He asked, his voice very quiet.

Ted shrugged. "I like it smooth."

Rol'ei shook his head, the beads once again clacking. He knelt in the water beside Ted, scooting up close enough he could feel the other's warmth. His fingers worked quickly and nimbly, gathering up the wispy bits along the left side of his face that grew a little less evenly than the rest in a tight braid. The way he kept tucking in more and more, it felt like a French braid of sorts, but he only added gathered hair on one side. Rol'ei curled it around behind the ear on that side, his fingers pausing momentarily to pull out a coiled bit of something from his own braids, before positioning it around the mastoid process area... if he was in his human body.

"What's that?" Ted asked.

"Its just a bit of coral, I tied it in to hold the braid still." His hand smoothed the hair back. "I left the rest of it loose, so you can tie it the way you like." With that, he actually started finger-brushing Ted's hair back. It felt so good to have someone else's fingers working back there... it sent surprising little shivers down his spine. He shuddered and sighed when Rol'ei eventually stopped after tying it all down.

Rol'ei's lips on his made him blink in surprise. The touch was chaste and quick, a moment there, the next gone. Then he was up, out of the water, and putting his loincloth back on.

Ted blinked up at him. Was that... was that the first time he initiated?

"Come, or the dinner meal will be cold when we get there."

Rol'ei huffed dramatically when Ted laughingly complained he'd still need to put clothing back on. The Singer gave him precisely enough time to put on boxers and pants before he picked up the boots in frustration and started back into the forest.

Ted grabbed his bag and chased after him, suddenly wondering if the Singer were purposefully methodically stripping him of all clothing. The thought amused him the long silent way back to the temporary dwellings of the Omaticaya.

"Ah, the Great Singer returns! And he brings the Little Singer with him."

Ted wondered at the change in the older woman. And why she smacked his shoulder fondly. So different from last night's suspicious glances.

"Wait, 'Little Singer'?"

Rol'ei grinned. "You have a new name among the people, it seems."

"Might as well call me 'Great Singer's Shadow' for all it sounds like," Ted grumbled.

"Quiet, or they might very tell give you the title."

Ted glared sideways at the Singer, once again jovial and boisterous among those who appreciated his humor. Before they fell too far into conversations, Ted dragged him away just long enough to pull off his still damp bandaging and replace it for fresh gauze from one of the medics.

It seemed tonight would be more ceremony, more celebration. Ted didn't quite catch what the occasion was for but a few haunting notes playing on the wind made him think that the flute he'd found might very well be in use.

This time when the wine skin got passed to him, he sipped carefully, letting Rol'ei take the lead. Ted ate from platters passed around. Once the Singer's belly was satisfied, he motioned the "Little Singer" to follow him. Ted sighed and did as he was bid, happy to be a quiet shadow behind the Singer's friendly camaraderie.

"Come. You must meet Ratche. She is a great beast! Fierce. I have many a song of the battles she has won. None will best her! In fact, she has taken the heads of..."

Ted felt his eyebrows raise at the sight of a huge ikran, flipped over on her back, batting at what looked like a dead animal. A herd of small children ran screaming around her.

"Ratche!"

A happy trill and the "great, fierce beast" was on Rol'ei, chittering and purring over her master. The kids pouted and whined that their play-thing had been usurped.

"Hmm, it looks like you sing the praises of a terrifying beast indeed," Ted said. He tried, and failed, to keep from laughing.

"Alright! Enough!" Rol'ei laughed himself. "You've made fool of me enough. Come, Ted, give me your hand."

Ted felt a bit ridiculous, holding his hand out to be introduced to the ikran like a dog or a horse. Do they even get smells like that? He eyed the chest vents as they dilated and contracted eagerly. Perhaps...

The adults in the area looked stricken, but the children seemed intend on climbing on her back.

Ratche snuffled at his hand, before she pushed past their joined hands with her spade-shaped head so she could smell his chest. Guess a gentle scrubbing didn't do much to get that smell off. The chittering started up again, her double eyes and sharp, sharp teeth millimeters from his face.

A wing knocked him over as she flipped around, grabbing the dead thing again and offering it to him. Rol'ei laughed.

"She must have stolen that, bad beast." He pulled at the thing. The more Ted could see it was just the skin from an animal. Ted marveled. He might as well have been looking at a human playing tug with a Great Dane... well, a Great Dane the size of an elephant.

"What does Ratche mean?" Ted asked as they played. "I've not heard the term before."

Rol'ei laughed. "What does Ted mean? Sometimes a name is simply a sound, Little Singer. She made the sound that was her name, and I use it too." He laughed again as she nearly pulled him over. "Some ikran see themselves as 'Cloud hunters' or 'The Greatest Fisher,' but my ikran is the greatest. She does not need silly titles."

She made some noise, as if agreeing with him, though Ted was fairly certain that the ikran couldn't understand spoken word. Okay, probably not one hundred percent certain, but certainly seventy-five.

Flits of conversation from before came to mind... how Rol'ei would connect, do that halo thing, with Ratche... how he'd wanted to connect with the Tree of Spirits while Ted did the same so they could experience each other... Was Rol'ei trying to say he wanted to do that with him? Ted's only experience with it had been just before the ceremony and just that gentle touch had been near overwhelming. So many voices all at once.

Rol'ei met his eyes over Ratche's impressive head. Ted felt like his whole soul lay in waiting to be opened by those wide yellow eyes.

"Ratche is lonely," the Singer said, after his beast bounded back to play with the children.

"She doesn't look it."

Rol'ei smiled a little, shaking his head. "The other ikran avoid her strangeness. She is big. She is friendly. The others wouldn't let children climb on them. She loves it. In my clan, often..."

"...Often?"

"When two of the ikran people mate, they mate for life. It is so with the ikran themselves. Often, when two of the people mate, their ikran will choose one another. The close feeling between the people can overwhelm the ikran's good senses."

"And if the hunter, say, chooses a mate without an ikran?"

"Then she could remain alone her whole life."

Is he saying he can't stay with me? That this is just a fling? Do Na'vi have flings? Ratche returned with her skin and offered it to her master. Rol'ei tugged halfheartedly. She snorted at him and turned to Ted. He pasted on a smile to hide his nervousness at playing "tug" against such a powerful set of jaws, but soon he found himself laughing and getting swung around like the children she'd been entertaining before.

* * *

Again, a piece that's a work in progress.

bluestonearcher DA /art/Tug-o-War-WIP-192243065

* * *

Other ikran, the smaller, comparatively duller colored ones he recognized as Omaticaya Clan beasts, kept far away on the rocky ledges, occasionally snapping at a passing wing, tail, or a flap of the skin. Ted swore Ratche had a mischievous gleam in her eye; she occasionally pulled the skin completely from his grasp and flung it away, usually landing it smack on the back of one of the watching banshees. The resulting flurries of wings and snapping jaws as they resettled as far away from it as possible gave her the space to retrieve it and bring it back to play once again.

"There might be a reason she has no friends here," Ted said, laughing.

"This is a new game," Rol'ei said, his eyes dark.

Ted passed the end of the skin to the waiting hands of one of the kids, an older teenager this time, probably soon to get her own ikran. He watched the storm in Rol'ei's eyes as he watched his mount.

"Is it such a concern then, her being this friendly?"

"None in my clan are like her. They tolerate it better, and the ikran younglings will play with her-"

"Are you sure its not the other way around?"

The Singer sighed and whistled her closer. She stopped immediately, her body humming with readiness even Ted could sense. Rol'ei passed his hands over her neck, connecting his queue to her... tendril. Thing. Damn, he'd have to look up the words for everything once he got back to the computers. Ask him to name the twelve electric conducting pores within the smallest spore on this planet and he could rattle them off in reverse alphabetical order. In Na'vi. The animal stuff? Not as much.

Ted watched as the ikran's body language shut down, wings fluttering a little bit. Finally, the two disconnected. With a last pat, she bounded up to an apparently comfy spot on the rock and promptly fell asleep.

"Wow."

"Just a lullaby. She needs time to heal. Come, I need more to drink."

The rest of the evening, Ted found himself in the company of a positively morose Singer. A steadily drunker, morose Singer. The celebrating folks around seemed to take no notice.

For once, Ted felt obligated to fill some of the lapses in conversation. Childhood stories seemed the easiest to relate to; at least, those the Omaticaya found most humerus. Especially ones were Ted found himself in insanely stupid peril thanks to his own idiocy or clumsiness.

After one particularly painful tale, how he'd dislocated his knee halfway through a competition swim in open water by swimming into the rescue boat and toppling all those aboard, Rol'ei raised a hand.

"Enough. You've a lot to learn of the arts of telling a tale. That one was so ridiculous I could barely believe it."

"Well, ridiculous or not, it happened."

"Singer, tell us a tale of love," said the young woman who'd been playing with Ratche earlier. With a start, Ted suddenly remembered her from earlier. She'd had her arms around Rol'ei. He swallowed down a pang of jealousy.

The Singer shook his head, his eyes darkly turning on Ted. "No story I have in my heart to tell would be what you want this night. How about you, Little Singer. Can you think of a story of love to fill this one's ears? Perhaps the story of when you first learned of love."

Ted bit his lip, the first "love story" that came to mind of course Romeo and Juliet. Considering all of the sadness of late, the telling would be more torture than the listening, he was sure. Ah! No, he knew just the one. Even better, and easier to remember a shorter version.

"Actually, yes, Great Singer, I can think of a great tale. Everyone gather close, get more drink, this will take a while." Suddenly, a great swarm of children and elderly appeared, squatting expectantly for a Great Story from the Little Singer. Oh boy. No pressure. He took a deep breath. He didn't know all the words in Na'vi, and if he were only telling the story to the kids he bet they'd be able to understand him just fine in English, but he could work through it for the adults.

"A long time ago," In a galaxy far away... ha. "There was a great king, King Richard, a Olo'eyktan of the people. He was wise, and very mighty, but he had a soft place in his heart for his people, his family. If his people were in danger, he would seek it out whatever it was and slay it. All was peaceful in his kingdom because of his strength and fairness. One day, a messenger from the east came, telling him of a war clan readying for battle. He did not know if he could trust these rumors, so he left his crown, the symbol of his right to rule, with his brother, Prince John.

"Now Prince John was power hungry. He was glad that the Olo'ektan left, certainly to face his death at the point of his enemy's spear." A couple children clutched at the those around them. "Do not worry," Ted stage whispered. "King Richard is too mighty to be taken down by a hundred brave clans, let alone a single one.

"So, King Richard left with a handful of his best warriors, leaving Prince John to watch after the realm, and one beautiful maiden, a young woman named Maid Marian." Ted struggled to remember why Marian had been left... why was she with the King? A "ward," he remembered that part.

"Did King Richard love her?" "Why did he leave her?" "Was she not a mighty hunter too? Could she not ride her ikran to join him?" Older hands shushed impatient voices. Ted tried to not notice the crowd had grown.

"She was... as a daughter to King Richard. Almost a woman." Had she stolen a horse? Arg. Getting off track. "King Richard chased after this wicked clan, going so far and so fast that his people heard nothing of him for years. Prince John placed his brother's crown upon his head and declared that he would be the Olo'ektan!" Ted stood up, thrusting his hand in the air, then suddenly feeling foolish for miming it at all. "But he was a bad king. He was wicked to the people." How to explain taxes and tithes? Bah, might as well simplify. Hard enough concepts to those who live with them. "Where the people gave his brother wondrous gifts, the best of the pa'li to be his mounts, the most beautiful stones to wear, the finest cuts of meat for his table, Prince John was given none of these. He sneered at the people, wanting what, he felt, was rightly his. First he took only a meal or two, then the hunter's favorite weapons, then he declared all that he could see was his.

"The people suffered under his cruelty. The children grew hungry. Any who tried to fight back were punished by Prince John's loyal hunters, a small group of strong, nasty warriors led by the Sheriff of Nottingham." The children booed. Ted grinned. "All wanted to fight, to bring back the peace and love that all had had when King Richard protected the land, but none would risk their loved ones to the anger of Nottingham."

"This doesn't sound like much of a love story," Rol'ei grumbled. His eyes glittered with interest, even though he had his arms crossed in front of him. Ted made a swishing gesture with his hands to dismiss him.

"It looked like there would never be hope again in the forest, when, one day, Nottingham and his men were set upon by a ratty bunch of young warriors." Some young men in the dark whooped. Ted laughed. Suddenly, space was made before the fire. The young warriors had painted their bodies in mud. Ted took up an old skin and held it over him to make his body look wide and massive. He stalked around the fire, the young hunters sneaking behind him. "Nottingham had under his cloak a feast he'd stolen only moment's before-" a package was shoved into his hands. It smelled delicious. He hid it, looking furtively about him. "He was a great, angry, ugly old beast-"

"We'd best have Rol'ei play the part then!"

Ted blushed at the shout, continuing as though he hadn't heard it. "And just when he and his men thought he would get away yet another night with a fine meal meant for all to share, the band pounced on him!"

He laughed as the group played their parts. He fought them halfheartedly, tickling where the man he mirrored would have stabbed them through. "Do we get to take back the food?" one whispered. "Yes."

"I have it!" He shouted, they all whooped in triumph, about to disappear once more into the crowd.

"Ah, but this hero has a greater purpose than his own empty belly. A small child appeared," one of the little ones obliged, tugging on the elder kid's tail. "His eyes BIG with hunger, for he and his nine siblings have not eaten in a week!"

"Nine? What a busy mother!" The young warriors laugh, gladly handing over their prize before settling down again.

"This hungry little child soon spread the word-" He found the child in his lap. He laughed and whispered "There is a great hero in the forest! He will save us from Prince John!"

"He spread this good news! Go on, go on." In a voice bigger than Ted'd expected, she shouted out word for word what he'd told her to. "Perfect my dear. Now, who would this great new hero be?"

"Was it King Richard?" "Was it Torukmakto?"

"No, it was an unknown outlaw... a man who lived apart from any clan... named Robin Hood. At first, he sought merely to steal a meal for him and his band, his Merry Men, but when he saw how King Richard's people suffered, he remained.

"He was not great, not a big strong warrior with strong men at his side or a wild ikran to ride, so he had to use his strong mind instead. Not only did he begin to steal back as much as the food as he could under cover of darkness, but he started laying traps to make Prince John and Nottingham look foolish. He would... untie the saddles from the pa'li, so the warriors would fall when they rode out on the hunt. They covered the inside of their armor with paint so that when the warriors returned they were streaked black and orange. They even captured small animals of the forest and hid them in Prince John's belongings so they made great, stinking messes.

"Prince John promised Nottingham any one thing he owned to make Robin Hood go away. Nottingham turned his fiendish eye upon the beautiful Maid Marian. She sobbed to think that she would be mated to such an ugly old monster." Ted's attempts to be Nottingham this time, with his pathetic eyebrow wiggles to make him look enticing, only served to get everyone laughing.

"'You will join with him!' Prince John said, 'The moment Nottingham brings that young warrior's head to me on a platter!'" That quieted everyone down... maybe with too gruesome a mental image. "Marian fled the castle... tree. Hometree. Not only would she not join with him, but she needed to warn Robin Hood that the hunters planned to kill all of them."

Ted cast a glance Rol'ei's way. Maybe Romeo and Juliet would have been better after all. One of the listeners passed him a skin, which he thankfully drank from.

"She traveled deep into the forest. She'd left even her..." He turned to Rol'ei again, gesturing a knife and getting the word quickly. "She'd left her knife and had no way to protect herself. It was dark, she was frightened. The snap of a twig in the forest sent her running as fast as she could."

Many of the older folks snickered at this, obviously seeing the stupidity in running. Ted shrugged his apology, trying to rewrite as he went took more creativity than he had resources. "All of a sudden, she found herself in the middle of a herd of sturmbeests, their angry bellows pushing her feet faster. She had no doubt that she would walk with Eywa that night.

"But, just as her strength could carry her no farther, Robin Hood appeared. He ran right into the middle of the herd, careless of his own safety, and used his bow to shoot an arrow straight..." he waved vaguely, realizing he had no idea where one shoots those rhinos on steroids. "He shot but one arrow, and the leader of the herd fell before Maid Marian's feet."

One of the boys made a rude noise. "That's impossible."

"No, it's possible, if one were very good," some anonymous elder defended.

"Robin Hood was very good. He had the keenest eye, the keenest nose, of any who ever had, or ever would live. He pulled back another arrow and shot another sturmbeest down before it could run into Maid Marian's back. With a whoop, he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to the safety of the wood, letting the living beasts pass unharmed, unwilling to kill any more needlessly. Even if it was to protect the most beautiful women his eyes had ever seen.

"It was then that Maid Marian, chest hurting and held tight against a tree, knew she would do anything to protect this amazing warrior. She could see his destiny twinned with hers like..." Ted felt his fingers touching the braid that Rol'ei had fixed earlier. Others around him noticed and smiled knowingly. He blushed. "She knew they were for one another, that she could never live another day without seeing him, or sleep another night without dreaming of him, even if Robin Hood didn't know it yet. They worked quickly, butchering the animals and bringing the meat to the starving people.

"Just as the light of a new day dawned, she remembered the warning. 'Robin, you must be careful! Prince John and Nottingham are going to trap you, you must remain safe and hidden.' With that she kissed him before running back into Hometree, fleeing back into the arms of the enemy so they would not suspect that Robin Hood knew of their plans."

Before Ted raised his voice in the next verse, Mo'at had pushed herself to the front of the crowd. She eyed all gathered. Ted suddenly felt very small and very vulnerable. The weight of all those eyes on him, peering out of the darkness, didn't help.

"Do you know this story, Great Singer? Is this something you have taught to your Little Singer?"

"No, it is new even to me."

"Hmph." She settled down to a honored place in front of Ted, the best view. "Please, continue. I could not hear back there."

Any attempt at remembering, and adapting Robin Hood and the Golden Arrow were completely lost now. He stammered through perhaps a paragraph more before Rol'ei's heavy hand on his shoulder ended the embarrassment.

"It looks like my Little Singer has once again drunk more than his share." The knowing laughter made Ted blush. Was he really that bad last night? "And it is quite late for the younglings. Let us continue the story tomorrow."

The groans of annoyance were well natured. Ted gratefully accepted the thanks and praise for the story, so far. He wasn't sure an additional day to practice would make his next performance better or worse, but he was grateful for the pause.

Rol'ei steered him away from the group, who had split off between those who wanted to sleep and those who wished to stay up, repeating more bawdy stories that Ted couldn't quite believe were coming out of na'vi lips.

"You do have a gift," Rol'ei said, offering him a skin. Ted took it, grateful it was only water to wet his lips. He drank greedily. "Your voice was getting rough."

"I don't do that often. Ever."

"Perhaps I'm rubbing off."

Ted looked at him side-long, wondering at the English turn of phrase coming from him. "I heard it from one of the other dreamwalkers."

"You learn very fast."

"I memorize fast," Rol'ei corrected. "Sometimes I only hear a story once before I must repeat it. You hadn't heard that story once."

Ted smiled and wiped his mouth. "No. I grew up with stories of Robin Hood. That one ends with Prince John holding an archery contest. Robin disguises himself as one of their clan and wins it, only to send a message later that he'd defeated all their best hunters, got into their home and out again safely without anyone being the wiser, just to humiliate them."

"And Maid Marian?"

"Their love blooms over many stories."

"Then why not tell of the fruition of their love, of deciding to mate and becoming one." Ted glowed from the heat radiating off of Rol'ei's body.

"I wanted to tell of first love, of first meetings. Of how, sometimes, just in that first instant of knowing one another the soul can become wrenched in such a way that it would never be the same again without its other half." So much easier to say such frivolous stuff when talking about a fictional character.

"This story feels closer to your heart than the earlier one."

"The one with the knee? Yeah. I'll admit, that one I did lie. I actually sunk the boat that was supposed to be rescuing any bad swimmers."

Rol'ei caught his hands together, held them tight between them. "Shh."

Ted sighed. After this afternoon, he wanted to do, to say more, but felt completely out of his element with the na'vi.

Hell, he was lying to himself. He felt out of his element with every boyfriend he'd had. Just for different reasons. None of them had lasted. There was a reason he'd signed up for this "science cruise from hell."

And maybe, that reason stood before him.

Ted cupped Rol'ei's shoulder with his hand. Rol'ei looked up into his eyes. Again, they wavered with uncertainty.

"It's getting late. I should-"

"Sleep here. My pallet is unused... and wider than yours."

Ted nodded his thanks. His stomach knotted as Rol'ei led him off into the dark. Would he? Would he want to try any more?

But no. Rol'ei did not even try to hold hands as they went off to the pallet he'd made. Ratche had settled herself beside it at some point in the night, giving up her roosting spot above to sleep on the ground. A strange ikran indeed. She greeted them, nuzzling them both, before going back to sleep.

"She likes you," Rol'ei said quietly.

"She seems to like everyone," Ted replied.

He stretched out on the layer of leaves and leather that'd been made to cushion the Great Singer's spot. Rol'ei sat next to him.

Ted bit his lower lip a moment before blurting. "I haven't really explained my sleeping completely to you...and you were really hung over this morning. When this body sleeps, I am in my other one, the body of the Sky People. I can't hear you, so, if you tried to wake me up in the middle of the night to... talk, or anything, I wouldn't be able to until I returned."

Rol'ei nodded. "I thought as much."

"So... if there is anything you want to talk about..."

Rol'ei shook his head. Without another word, he lied down nest to him, curled up on his side, back to Ted. Far enough away that not an inch of skin touched.

Ted sighed and wrapped an arm around the Singer's mid-drift. He pulled him back gently, until they touched chest to knee. He tucked the "bitch arm" under Rol'ei's neck.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered in English. The Na'vi didn't respond. He slowed his breathing, but remained in this body, just enjoying the feel of Rol'ei's form against his, until he couldn't fight unconsciousness any longer.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Rol'ei pulled away from the inert body the moment he felt the spirit leave. Uneasiness settled into his stomach. He felt as though he were being gripped by a dead thing.

Ratche let out a sleepy, questioning twill. He cooed to her, offering reassurance he didn't have in his heart.

In the not-quite-dark of the night, he chose a rock near-by, easing back to rest his thigh and watch.

Ted's body barely moved in sleep. Deep, like a child. He breathed, his eyelids twitched, his hands and toes even clenched on occasion. Each night he spent near the dreamwalker, the strangeness of it built upon itself.

When Rol'ei was a child himself, the singer in his clan would stare at the very young as they slept. The Great Singer tried to remember her reasoning. The old woman has been strange, her mind often disconnected from the rest of the people. Years ago, she'd made sense to his younger self... she thought that the people walked in their minds, that children walked with Eywa during their sleep in ways adults no longer could without herb, drink, or venom.

Did Ted walk with Eywa now? Did this body have a spirit of its own? What of his tawtute body? Did it dream? Perhaps when the tawtute body dreamed, he walked with the people? Dreamwalker. Demon. Empty shell. A thousand words shuffled through his mind.

A firm hand fell on his shoulder, bringing his thoughts crashing against a cliff, abruptly his mind on the shore of a stormy sea.

"Great Singer, I see you."

Torukmakto! His story! I must ask him everything! I should seek out Neytiri and ask about falling in... do dreamwalker, Sky People, males mate with one another? How do dreamwalkers mate? Had they already... Torukmakto is certainly impressive up close... the breadth of those shoulders alone...

Rol'ei blinked up at Torukmakto a moment before he could collect the shattered shells of his thoughts.

"I see you, Torukmakto," Rol'ei said, trying to quiet his mind. "It is an honor to meet you."

"Please, call me Jake," the once dreamwalker said. What to call a dreamwalker who had given up the tawtute body; one who has woken? "Toruk has flown to his own life. It is strange to see one of the people up so late," Jake said, obviously changing the subject. Rol'ei smiled. He appreciated one who wanted a simple life. He had gladly given up much for the same.

"Often I need to think when the rest of the voices of the people are still," Rol'ei offered; a true enough statement, and a common one by the ocean, but here... he stared at Jake's lips, pulling back in that common dreamwalker smile. Had he always appreciated the male form so much? Rol'ei shifted awkwardly. He had, certainly, but to better tell a story, or sing a song, for the female audience... surely?

"Ah, your great song about the sixth Torukmakto; Mo'at warned me that I might find myself cornered by your questions."

Rol'ei nodded, finally realizing his good fortune; relative solitude while all the others slept to ask... oh Eywa. What to ask of such a honored warrior, especially one who would no longer be called Torukmakto?

"I want to sing of more than the battle, more than the horrors of the Sky People."

Jake nodded to the still form by his ikran. "You've been following Ted, right? Has he been helpful?"

Rol'ei nodded. "Very. My eyes have been opened to more than I expected." He shook his head. "Why are you awake so late?"

The look in Jake's eyes told the singer he knew the trick of picking a new draft in the conversation well.

"For months, I've been getting very little sleep, waking and working with the Omaticaya, then working with the Sky People scientists when this body slept.

"At first, I thought that living in only one body would mean that I could sleep through the night, but my legs are restless, my mind is restless." He shrugged, a stiff movement of his big shoulders. "So, I rise with the stars and watch my people until I can rest once again."

"A guardian's heart," Rol'ei admired.

"I was a marine, a member of the Jarhead Clan," the ironic smile on his lips described things Rol'ei couldn't understand. "The saying goes," he spoke in the clipped tongue of the tawtute, then translated, using the word Rol'ei had suggested for obviously the first time, "Once a guardian, always a guardian."

"A good song, a great song, needs a chorus about the softness of the heart," Rol'ei said, turning the subject slightly.

"Neytiri," Jake sighed, his voice and eyes soft in ways Rol'ei had not expected in the warrior.

"How do the Omaticaya take your mating?"

At this he flinched. "At first..." He scratched along the shaved side of his scalp. "When she announced it to the people, they would have killed me. Before, I was accepted, well enough, when Mo'at said I was to be taught. I was an amusing oddity... a..." he trailed off, then changed winds again. "But now I am brother to all Omaticaya."

Rol'ei nodded, understanding. Until he wished to be mated with someone of power, he was of no consequence; now he holds power, so there is no longer a conflict.

"You love her?"

"With all that I am. I would not be alive without her." Body and soul, he left unsaid but the words were heavy in the air between them.

"Will you have little ones?"

"Children? If Eywa wills it." An answer worthy of any Tsahik.

"Even if I had not been learning from a scientist," Rol'ei formed the harsh word carefully, duplicating Ted's inflection as best as he could, "I would know that the Sky People have brought wonders down to the people. Do you know if you are able?"

"Lisa said we have as good a chance as any other couple."

"And if you can't?"

Jake sighed and leaned his forearms on his thighs.

"I've thought about that, but I haven't spoken to Neytiri yet..."

"You have my silence."

Jake nodded his thanks. "There is a custom, among the Sky People, that when a child is unwanted, or has lost his family, that he is taken in by another one. Many families have been torn apart... so far, the Omaticaya have woven together to support all, but a strong family is needed to raise a child right."

"So you would take in all of the children without parents? That would be a great undertaking."

Jake smiled. "Not all, but two, maybe. And we would urge other Omaticaya to do the same, show a way that isn't our own but can be easily adopted."

Rol'ei nodded, an weight off of his shoulders that he hadn't been entirely aware of. A family...

"A fine idea. I will have to suggest it to my Olo'eyktan."

"On note of that, Mo'at wanted me to talk to you about those of your clan still here. She says that your wounded are ready to travel home."

"How many wounded?"

"Only fifteen or so."

"No, from all of the clans who came to the call of Torukmakto."

Jake looked off into the sky. "Well over a hundred."

"Too many."

He nodded.

"Mo'at sent you to speak with me because she would not have been so... polite. The wounded are many mouths to feed, bodies taking up space from a clan without a home." Rol'ei sighed, looking back at the space Ted's body occupied. A generous portion left empty not only for him, but for his swiftly healing ikran. In deference to his station. Shame heated his cheeks. They worked so hard to keep a place for him, when he'd spent so many nights elsewhere. "Did she say when they would be ready to return?"

"The day after next," Jake said with a clipped tone he heard echoing from the great Tsahik herself.

"We will leave then."

Jake stayed him when Rol'ei moved to leave.

"You are welcome to return, Great Singer. You are also welcome to join the hunt tomorrow. I have promised to take down a sturmbeast."

Rol'ei grinned wryly. "I am a Great Singer, One-Who-Was-Once-Torukmakto. I am no hunter. I can raise my bow and shoot within a multitude, with my tribe at my back, but my arrow will be the one that kills the moss on the tree."

Jake grinned. "The offer stands. When you are ready to leave, Mo'at offers enough pa'li to carry all of yours home."

The tide of unease swelled once again. "We do not ride pa'li, Jake."

He nodded. "I looked in on your people; I doubt many could make the ride anyway. It might be cumbersome while still in the woods, but once you're on the plain between the forest and the sea, I think it will work just fine."

Rol'ei shook his head, confused. "What will work?"

"Wagons."

Deep into the night, and well into the next morning, the two discussed possibilities until the singer felt dizzy from all the information.

Rol'ei growled at the stupid beast. Ted laughed openly.

"I don't understand why you're having such trouble! You're the one who has all the experience with the halo."

Moving as one, Ted, astride his borrowed pa'li, retrieved the one Rol'ei had fallen from. Again.

"I don't understand how you can stay astride."

The beast Ted rode bumped up side-to-side with the other, Ted reached over and took Rol'ei's arms so he could pull him back up onto that wide, hard back.

"Are you sure you haven't been practicing this?"

"First time in the years I've been here," Ted said, his smile now gentle. "Easy with getting your leg back over, you took a bad spill last time."

"Damn beast should keep me up here."

Rol'ei slid his leg across the monster's back and slowly brought it down into place. The stretch hurt the healing muscles all over again, plus brought a fresh sort of pain between the legs.

"When I was young, I rode horses with my cousins. Horses are... well, rather like pa'li," Ted explained before being asked. "But they only have four legs, instead of six. And they're fuzzy all over. My cousins did competition barrel racing. We rode often enough that I just got to the point where I didn't think about it anymore. It's the same thing here. If I just focus a little bit and just think about walking, then I'm okay... I certainly didn't feel everything then like I do now, but as long as I ignore all of that, I'm fine.

"Isn't it this way with Ratche?"

"No, Ratche is smarter than this hulking monster. She takes care of her own wings. How am I to organize all these legs? How do you?" Connected once again, but nervous about going too fast, he felt all six legs stumbling without coordination underneath him.

Ted's hand slipped over his, sliding it away from the death grip he had on his saddle.

"You look worried."

"I can't ride one of these all the way home. I can't."

Ted sighed. When he'd woken, Jake quickly explained, in 'Inglisi, the idea of the wagons. Ted seemed excited by the project, understanding more than even Jake did about how the pa'li worked... somehow. Rol'ei swallowed the bitter taste on his tongue.

"Perhaps you should go to the Pa'li Clan," Rol'ei grumbled. "You seem more natural on their back than even the Omaticaya."

"It's simply a matter of not thinking about it," Ted said, his voice soft and kind. "Here, you think in song, right? Is there a song with the right beat?"

"Right beat?" Rol'ei asked, perplexed.

Ted's beast shifted, weight swaying side to side, feet shifting under him in uncanny organization.

"Close your eyes, Rol'ei."

The singer did. Ted's hand slipped away from his. The pa'li snorted, the footsteps moving away loudly, deliberately.

"Listen to it, Rol'ei. I'm sure you know a song with the same rhythm."

He focused, tried to focus, as Ted moved his animal in a circle around him. A tickle of a song wandered into his mind. There, yes. Ted had it right. A beat. A six beat song? No, he didn't know any six beats, but a three beat song he could think of.

"I see you nodding your head." Rol'ei felt his lips lift at the smile he heard in Ted's voice. "Think of a dance... I wish you knew belly dance, it's the perfect metaphor, according to Aunt Janet. Eh, that doesn't matter. Here, keep your eyes closed, but take my hand. Now, think of that beat and walk with me."

"But-"

"No, don't think. Hum or sing if you have to, but just walk. Focus on my hand in yours. Feel our hips bumping against one another."

"Those are the broad armored hips of two damn stupid pa'li."

"Nope. Mine, and yours. Both quite bare. Can't you feel my skin? Shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip."

"You are attempting to distract me."

"That would be the idea."

The sound of a creak of leather was the only warning he had before Ted's lips touched his cheek. He blinked and looked around.

"We've gotten quite far."

"Almost half the way to the barracks, then we can get the engineers to take a look at getting these two set up for their wheels. Come on, you've gotten this far."

With a bit of coaxing, and Ted humming along off key, they got quite a bit farther with only a few stumbles along the way.

"I think I see the outbuildings through the trees. There."

Rol'ei looked carefully where Ted pointed. Just the hint of unnatural stone through the foliage.

"I think I need a break."

"Are your hips bothering you? Your thigh?"

Rol'ei slid down the side of the pa'li close to a few of the pitcher plants they enjoyed drinking from. He rubbed the ache in his thigh. If he stayed on the pa'li the whole trip home, it would be a long one. Perhaps he would be able to rotate with one or two of the wounded, spend some time in the wagon, or on Ratche's back. She'd probably do well with some reassurance that he wasn't abandoning her for a life on the ground.

"Hey, are you okay? You look so..."

Whatever Ted saw in Rol'ei's eyes stopped the words in his mouth.

Rol'ei took his precious face into his hands. All of the worries he held flickered between his shoulder blades. If all went well, he could be back to the ocean in three days, and bring back the pa'li alone a few days after that. Precious few days away from him. Terms of endearment burned on his tongue. Sweet nectar. Foam on the sea. Wind beneath my ikran's wings. Overpowering feelings of hope, and deep longing. He felt hollow with it.

And then what, when he came back? For an instant, he felt more like he'd be coming home, here, from going away, to the sea.

Would he court the younger man then, as he would a women? Would Ted welcome such advances? What of the Ikran Clan? Would they accept the dreamwalker, a male dreamwalker, as the mate to their Singer? Perhaps staying with the Omaticaya would be better... spending a life learning the language of the Sky People, learning all the gifts they have, among people who, if not accept, at least tolerate the dreamwalkers.

"I want to tell you a story," Rol'ei said, tentatively.

"We don't have time, not if we want to get something made by tomorrow-"

Rol'ei tugged on Ted's arm, keeping him close when he would have turned away.

"Perhaps, not so long ago, a man, no longer quite so young as he wanted to be, felt what he realized was love for perhaps the first time in his life. As much as he wanted to proclaim his love to the four winds and two oceans, two things stayed his voice... fear of what the other might say, and fear of what his clan might say, because their people had been battling for so many years, one could hardly remember a time of peace."

Ted's hand cupped Rol'ei's chin once again, his eyes wet with emotion.

"Perhaps I should have told the story of Romeo and Juliet instead of Robin Hood."

"Romeo and Juliet?" Rol'ei questioned, mimicking the sounds he assumed were names.

Ted shook his head. "It is a sad tale, of two young lovers who found each other amid the war between their families."

"How can love be sad?"

The corner of Ted's lip pulled up. "They killed themselves in a misunderstanding, in an attempt to free themselves from their families. It is a very old story among my people."

"Not told often to children, I hope. That is not much of an example to live by."

Ted laughed. "Required reading, I'm afraid. But I find some hope in your story. Will you tell me the ending?"

"I do not know it yet."

Ted nodded understanding, pulling away once again. Rol'ei clenched his hands into tight fists at his side.

"It is not far, we could just walk the direhorse the rest of the way, if you wish."

"I wish to remain here, with you." Ted looked back over his shoulder. The flicker of emotions Rol'ei saw pushed him on. "I need to take my people home, but I will come back. To you."

Ted smiled, but didn't reply. Rol'ei huffed in frustration. Didn't Ted realize how difficult, how important, what he was trying to say was?

"Don't you understand? I'm willing to give up my clan for you."

"I'm not asking that of you, nor of your clan. Especially when we've only known one another for a few days. It's too much. Have you had any lovers before?"

Ted's question threw a stone in his path. "Other lovers? No."

He nodded. "Do you mind if I have?"

Rol'ei opened his mouth to comment, then thought back to the day before, the feel of their bodies pressed together and his hand expertly bringing them both to...

"Are you..." he hesitated to ask if he were mated, partly worried of the answer, partly not certain if he should ask if Ted were mated to a man or woman.

"I am mated with no one," Ted clarified. "It has been years since I was even interested... and as much as I feel for you," Rol'ei flinched. "I feel like as the more experienced one, I should push for temperance."

"Temperance?" Rol'ei asked, incredulous. Who was it that had him pressed against the tree, who had their members tight in his palm... and now he asked for "temperance" as though he had not introduced him to the joy of another man's touch? "Tell me again of temperance when I return in eight days."

Rol'ei suddenly grabbed Ted about the shoulders, wanting to both sate his arousal and make the dreamwalker feel the same, so that when they met each other once again in a couple handfuls of days, he would not be the only one panting with desire.

Ted's lips were hesitant at first, but the singer kissed the corners, flicked his tongue along the seam, and nibbled along his pouting lower lips until he relented. He groaned at the feel of Ted's hands circling around behind his back, stroking the muscles there.

Rol'ei held him close with a feel of desperation, wanting to feel and taste so much of him, wanting all of him to fill that emptiness inside.

Ted's kisses wandered down his throat and along the line of his collarbone, lingering to nibble along his pulsepoints, finding sensitive spots that even the singer didn't know he had.

Rol'ei explored the other's body, his fingers grazing along the rise of his nipples, down the hard planes of his stomach, and down to those damn pants.

"Here, wait. I want to show you something different."

Rol'ei groaned aloud as Ted pushed his hands away from the buttons. The dreamwalker kissed his frown in apology, before marking a purposeful line down his body with his lips. The touch down his breastbone had Rol'ei panting. The flicker of his tongue over his nipples had him shivering. By the time Ted knelt between the singers feet, his teeth nibbling along his inner thighs had him groaning in very real pain.

"Please..."

"Please what?" Ted asked, his voice a growl, his breath hot against his stomach.

"Please cease teasing me. I can't take it."

Ted's laugh was a rumble along Rol'ei's thighs.

"But that's most of the fun," he complained with humor in his voice. He rubbed his forehead against Rol'ei's stomach. The singer felt, more than saw, the cords of his loincloth loosen. The dreamwalker looked up at him with only his eyes, the dark gold lined with thick black eyelashes, while his lips slowly, oh so slowly, bent to kiss the leather before peeling it away from his yearning body.

Rol'ei held his breath, expectant of he knew not what.

Ted smiled mischievously, turning back to nibble Rol'ei's hipbones. Before Rol'ei could grumble again about his teasing, Ted gently lifted his bad leg, tucking the knee over the dreamwalker's shoulder so that Rol'ei's foot rested against the small of his back.

With one hand on the singer's ass, and one arm cradling him around the middle, Rol'ei felt surprisingly stable standing on one leg.

Then, Oh Loving Eywa, Ted brought his lips down to his painfully hard cock. He kissed each glowing freckle along his shaft, stopping here and there to circle one with his tongue. Rol'ei shuttered to the very tip of his tail, every speck of his flesh tingling and alive with sensation, then the dreamwalker brought flames behind his eyes.

His probing tongue encircled the tip of his shaft a moment; Rol'ei's body rocked with the motion. Finally, with one last sweep, his hot, hot mouth took him in. Rol'ei shouted. He only just felt Ted's fingers holding tight to him.

They stayed suspended in time, neither moving. The simple pulse Rol'ei could feel through Ted's tongue was enough to keep his body rocking.

Ted seemed to understand, and waited for him. He stood, leaning against the dreamwalker's shoulders, for a very long time. Ted's hot breath coming out of his nose tickling the base of him.

Oh so gentle, Ted rolled his tongue slowly forward and back, keeping his head still, so Rol'ei remained enveloped in moist heat that undulated with the tempo of the ocean. They groaned as one as Ted began to move his whole mouth, his lips gripping tight and sucking. They rocked together in a slightly off balanced dance as Ted urged him on and on, his tongue curling faster, his lips pulling harder.

It didn't take very long for that white hot ball of energy built up deep within him. He panted and cried out the dreamwalker's name, wanting more of him, wanting him to never stop, never leave him.

Just as he felt he could take no more, a strong hand slipped from his ass, cupped his ball sack for a moment, before stroking the tender flesh behind, working in concert with those talented lips. Onward and onward, the tide slapped hard against the rocks, giving him no relief from the will of the sea.

A break in the swell. Ted's arms gripped him hard, his knuckle pushing up tight against the nerve bundle he suddenly learned hurt it felt so amazing. Rol'ei grew hoarse from his shouts, his hands tangled tight in the dreamwalker's hair, holding his mouth flush against him. Ted's tongue danced along the underside of him, drawing out every spurt, the deep swallows of his throat creating amazing suction, drawing his ecstasy on and on until he felt he'd given all of his life force the man before him.

"Please.. ahh..." he finally called out, too tender to take any more, too muddled to put together a complete thought. Ted's lips drew away, carefully keeping every drop for one last swallow. Rol'ei shuddered.

Ted carefully let down the singer's bad leg. He nuzzled his face into Rol'ei's stomach, his strong arms the only thing keeping him upright. Rol'ei slipped even with the support, his feet loosing any purchase on the ground.

The wonderful man laughed good naturedly at him, guiding the exhausted singer safely to the ground. Ted cradled him in his arms, occasionally kissing his cheekbone, brow, and nose as the last of the shudders wracked his body.

"Let me know when you're ready to get up. I don't want to rush you."

Rol'ei opened one eye and looked sideways at Ted. "I feel no need to get up... and I would like my chance to try that with you."

The purplish blush came up in his cheeks again. "I'm afraid I won't be up to anything for a while..." he gestured to his damp pants with an embarrassed grin. "I had a bit too much fun pleasuring you." He planted another kiss on Rol'ei's temple. "Maybe tonight?"

Rol'ei nodded, nuzzling against Ted's cheek.

Ted covered the singer's hand in his. Rol'ei looked down; he hadn't realized he'd been rubbing the ache in his thigh.

"Perhaps a quick swim before we go any farther? I think I hear a stream over there."

Rol'ei nodded again. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Ted threw his arms around his shoulders, pulling him tight against his chest.

"Let's rest a moment, hm?"

"Hmm."

They swam for only a short amount of time, Ted anxious to get the pa'li back to the tawtute to have the wagons fashioned for them. Ted did little more than get himself soaked from head to toe then hover over the singer while he floated in the shallow stream.

"How is your thigh?"

"It is fine," Rol'ei answered for perhaps the third time. He sighed. All he wanted to do was nap in the gentle flow of the water. He liked that this stream was shallow enough he could touch the bottom with an ankle to anchor himself.

"Rol'ei, I-"

"I know, I know, we should leave."

He sighed again and got up with a groan. Ted looked at him with concern in his eyes. And perhaps a little more. Rol'ei let a warm smile curve his lips.

"I am fine. I'm just not looking forward to controlling that dumb beast again."

"Actually, I have an idea for that, if you'd like to try."

Ted nearly vibrated with energy next to him as they made their way back to the beasts. Rol'ei wondered what he had in mind as he collected the two animals from their feeding at the pitcher plants.

He hopped nimbly enough back onto his mount, connecting with tsahaylu once he was settled. Surprisingly, he held his hand out to Rol'ei with a big, toothy grin.

"Ride with me," he said. "I can take the lead rope from the other." The lovely Omaticaya girl who'd readied these two pa'li for them had thoughtfully left the leads on; if they had been more experienced riders, they wouldn't have needed them at all.

"I thought I needed to get used to directing these things, since I will be leading the wagons," he said, suspicious.

If it were possible, Ted's grin grew even brighter. "Come. I'll explain my idea on the way."

Rol'ei shook his head, but took Ted's hand. The dreamwalker stuck his foot out to give Rol'ei a stepping place.

With a bit of work, Rol'ei found himself settled in front of Ted's limber form on top the wide, uncomfortable back. Ted wrapped an arm around Rol'ei's middle, reminding them of a few moments before, and tugged him tight against his body. The singer heard a roaring in his ears, his blood rushing through his body, at the heavy feel of Ted's cock pressed against his ass.

"I want you to feel the sway of my hips," Ted said. "We just need you to relax a little bit." His lips played at Rol'ei's earlobes. The words a promise that his body seemed to understand more than he did.

Ted chuckled at the shudder that went through his body once again. "You know," he said in a quiet whisper, "For all that you say you are 'not so young any more' and the Omaticaya make fun of your age, you seem nearly ready again."

Rol'ei felt an unfamiliar blush in his own cheeks. Ted's hand had traveled down his stomach and gently traced the outline of his loincloth, so gentle he hadn't felt it at first.

Rol'ei picked up the hand, kissed the palm, and returned it to his stomach.

"Aren't you the one who wants to get back quickly?" Rol'ei whispered. Ted groaned and nuzzled the back of his neck.

"Thank you for reminding me."

With his free arm he collected the lead for the other beast. Rol'ei relaxed against him as he directed the pa'li. This part of the journey, though his thigh still ached, was a great deal more comfortable.

"You want to do what?"

Rol'ei looked back to Ted. He didn't quite understand the concept himself.

"A road trip. Rol'ei can't lead those two pa'li all by himself, and the others are too wounded to take a turn long enough to give his thigh a break."

Several of the dreamwalkers, and even a couple of the remaining tawtute, were surrounding them, the beasts grazing a few steps away.

"Ted, you can't do that, it's insane!"

"I won't be the first Avatar to go that far," he said. Rol'ei rather liked the stubborn set to his jaw. "Jake went out there."

"Jake went by Leonopteryx and got there in a couple hours. On the direhorse, its going to take several days!" The male dreamwalker, Rol'ei didn't know his name, turned to Rol'ei as if for conformation. While many of the 'Inglisi words were strange, he got the general idea.

"If we move quickly, stop only to sleep at night, we can be there in three days. The pa'li will need to rest, I think before they could make the same trip back."

"Why not just keep the pa'li there?" Lisa asked, her face kind among the strangers.

"We do not keep pa'li. They require sap from the great trees of the forest, and the juice of the pitcher plants. We have neither by the ocean. We can carry enough with us for the journey, but they will starve if they stay with us."

"Well that answers that," Lisa said, as if that meant quite a lot.

"What if we just flew everyone there? I mean, in the helicopters. We could get the whole group over there and back again in a couple hours."

The glares from the others confused Rol'ei. "What is a hell-ee-cooper?" he whispered. Ted quietly mimicked the sound of the engine, and twirled a couple fingers over his head in a circular motion. Oh. Those monstrous beasts.

"And how do you think they'll take the helicopters, hm? Do you think they'll assume the humans are back to kill them, so soon after that battle?"

"I think it would be better to avoid that," Rol'ei stepped in. "And most of the remaining wounded have lost their ikran to the battle. I doubt they are ready to fly again so soon."

"Right, so the method of travel isn't in question, I'm just going to go with them."

"Ted, you can't put yourself in danger like that, we need you here to..." Rol'ei squinted at the tall dreamwalker female. She'd lapsed into 'Inglisi, her words obviously rapid fire and angry. Suddenly the foreign words blossomed out around him, everyone talking over one-another.

Rol'ei moved behind Ted, suddenly unsure. The words sounded so vicious.

Suddenly, everyone fell silent, staring at the two of them. Rol'ei took Ted's hand, wanting support and wanting to give it as well. The male again asked a question, his tongue very hard and clipped. Lisa jabbed her elbow into his side. He snarled at her and she had an ear between her fingers and thumb in a flash, dragging him off by it. Yet another one asked another question, eerily similar to the angry male, but much quieter.

Ted responded in kind, quiet low. His hand gripped tighter on the singer's. The questioner nodded.

"Well, you'll need to pack, while I work on the wagons. Will the direhorse stand for me to take measurements?"

"They should," Ted responded. Rol'ei watched him out of the corner of his eye. Why did he sound to tired, so world-weary so suddenly?

"Good. Go on."

The rest of the dreamwalkers and Sky People turned away as one. Ted remained where he was, watching nothing for a long while.

"What just happened?"

Ted only shook his head and turned for the sleeping area. Rol'ei did not let go of his hand, even though Ted's angry pace was a little rough on his stiff muscles.

After the door banged shut behind them, Ted immediately stripped off his still-wet clothing.

"Do you think I should wear a loincloth, while meeting your people?" he asked.

"It is your choice. Once we are out of the shade of the forest, it will be quite hot," Rol'ei advised.

"Hm, maybe one pair of pants then. And a pair of shorts."

Rol'ei sat on Ted's cot, watching as he puttered back and forth aimlessly. The dreamwalker wouldn't look up to meet his eyes.

It didn't take long for Lisa to return. The singer breathed a sigh of relief at her smile. She returned it.

"Jason is an ass, Ted, you should ignore him."

"What is an ass?" Rol'ei asked, glad he could finally question the 'Inglisi words they mixed in with the more familiar Na'vi.

"Erm..." Lisa looked to Ted for rescue, but he shrugged, leaving her to answer it. "It's the back end," she finally said, pointing to her own. "The word can be used in both good and bad ways. Like 'I love your ass' or 'you have a sweet ass' are good ways to use it, while 'he's being an ass' or 'he's making an ass of himself' or 'you're a real asshat' would be bad forms of the word."

Rol'ei tried duplicating a few of the phrases, bringing smiles to their faces at his purposeful mispronunciations. They sent the offending word back and forth a bit, until it had turned into an eloquent litany of the man's many faults, most of which Rol'ei had no inkling of the meaning.

"So, what is a 'road trip'?"

"Going away from family and friends on purpose," Lisa said, after a thoughtful silence. "Often to spend time alone, or with a special someone, to find one's self."

"So... that Jason dreamwalker is angry that Ted wants to go away from you? But he said he wants to return."

Lisa made a wiggling motion with her hand. "A little of that. Alexi, that was the gal with the big W on her forehead," she traced the marking on herself, making it clear who she spoke of. "Is a little worried about that. If anyone is going to figure out if we can make a crop for the humans, the Sky People," she corrected herself, "out of one of the native plants, Ted is going to be the one to do it. If something happens to him..." She left the rest unsaid.

"I will protect him with my life," Rol'ei said in a serious voice.

Lisa nodded. "That might be part of the problem. Jason's not only an ass, but a homophobic ass. When he saw you holding hands, he was pretty quick to add two and two."

Rol'ei looked to Ted for clarification. Ted took a seat next to him on the cot, took his hands in his, but still refused to look into his eyes.

"Not everyone is... comfortable with two male mating with one another, or two females either. Some of those who are uncomfortable will simply ignore what is in front of them, while others can become violent."

He looked up finally. Rol'ei's heart wept for the tears that shimmered over their lovely golden depths.

"Do not hide your emotions from me, even in public. If you want to hold my hand, please hold my hand. If you wish to kiss me, please do. If anyone tries to be an ass, I'll put poison ivy in their laundry."

Lisa laughed, catching a joke that Rol'ei did not understand.

The singer simply held Ted's hands even tighter.

"Let me go grab one of the portable computers for ya, with one of the solar backpack chargers. Might as well get some cataloging in while you're out there. Oh! And your guitar!"

"Guitar?" Rol'ei looked over at Lisa.

"Oh no, please, don't pull that out."

"Oh come on! We worked really hard on that!"

The monstrosity Lisa pulled out had eight tightly strung cords of metal, over an oblong, uneven wooden base.

"She made it," Ted whispered.

"Ah! I could tell the hand of a true artisan!" Rol'ei complimented, having not a clue as to if it looked the way it should. "What is it?"

"Oh are you in for a fun road trip."

"Fun road trip?" Rol'ei mimicked, worry settling in the pit of his stomach once again.

* * *

Tsahaylu (Ted commonly mis-says "the halo" without realizing it) - the bond/neural connection  
Tsahik - shaman, matriarch  
Olo'eyktan - clan leader

Tawtute – Skye People

Torukmakto – one who rides Toruk, currently Jake

'Inglisi - English  
Ikran (Banshee) – Four-winged flying mount, wingspan 13.9 meters (with Sea ikran easily reaching 15 or more)  
Pa'li (Direhorse) – six-legged horse mount, 4 meters tall  
Toruk (Leonopteryx) – "biggest thing in the sky" dragon-like main predator of the sky


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"I See, with my small eye, something yellow."

Everyone groaned. Ted smiled sheepishly as one of the injured warriors in Rol'ei's wagon glared over at him.

When they'd first set out, with Ted and Rol'ei each riding a direhorse and tugging a wagon load of injured warriors behind them, teaching them the "I Spy" game had seemed like such a lovely idea. Sure, in the forest it has been entertaining. With so many colors and different things around, there was a lot of variety; it was a challenge.

As they passed into the open plains and rolling hills between the Omaticaya's territory and the Ikran Clan's territory, the game became monotonous in the extreme. Only one of the one young women in Ted's wagon seemed intent on continuing the painful torment.

Of course, now it felt like proper retribution to the cold shoulder he was getting from the Singer.

Ted sighed.

"It's grass," another of his passengers commented with a grumble. "Don't you know any other games?"

"Let me think," Ted said, really not coming up with anything. He'd been trying to think of a new game since noon the first day. All of the traditional road trip games he knew were things like license plate bingo, or the alphabet game, or punch buggy. Unless they were punching from seeing real bugs, he had no idea.

"Well, it is traditional to sing on a road trip... Rol'ei, can you think of anything?"

The Singer looked up after one of his passengers poked his direhorse in the rump. "Hm?"

"Songs," Ted said, hopefully. "I was thinking maybe you could sing for us?"

"I don't really think I'm up to it."

Ted's eyebrows pulled together in concern. Rol'ei's eyes returned to their dead stare off into the distance, never really focusing on Ted or anyone else. What was wrong with him?

"We don't want to hear his songs anyway. How about you sing for us?"

"Yes, please! I only got to hear the second half of Robin and the Arrow, could you tell it again?"

Ted felt his cheeks heat. "I think I've told that one enough, for now."

"What about that instrument that Lisa insisted you bring?"

Of course Rol'ei would pipe in with that. Ted sighed. "I don't sing... but here, could you hand me my pack first?"

Ted leaned back to snatch the strap of his bag from the outstretched hand. His laptop didn't have much music, but surely he'd have something he could play to.

After a bit of a search, he gulped in embarrassment. Yes, it was his laptop, and his music... but he hadn't opened it in ages, and there was a definite flavor to the music he had queued up on the small machine.

"What is that?" Nari, the young gal who'd been so fascinated with the I Spy game leaned over the edge of the wagon to look over his shoulder. "Are those little Sky People?"

"It's an image of humans, from a concert, a gathering where many people gather to listen to people sing."

"What are they wearing?"

Oh, how to explain corsets? "It's a special erm... support."

"Are they alive? They look frozen!"

Ted smiled and set the video to play. How bad could it be? None of them knew enough English for it to be too much trouble. He showed the young woman how to switch between the small collection of Wet Spots videos he had on the small machine, then handed it back for them to watch; the screen impossible to enjoy from a distance.

From the back of the pa'li, he could barely hear the tinny sound from the speakers, far from the rich melodies he enjoyed from the long-gone but still sexy duo.

"It's called lounge music," Ted said, trying for the life of him to watch Rol'ei out of the corner of his eye without being noticed. "The style, I mean. There's some other music by different people, if you'd like to listen to something else."

"I like them," Nari said. "I mean, I like their voices. What are they singing? Could you translate for us?"

The song had switched to Labia Limbo, his favorite after Bi-Curious George.

If you're curious what song I'm referencing, watch?v=0P30Efndzm4

"Well, this is mostly nonsense sounds that can't really be translated," he fibbed some. Mostly true. Oh! Rounds! Maybe he could think of a couple rounds to teach them, then they could all sing to pass the time. "Besides, their songs are a bit mature, maybe something..."

She pulled back the laptop when he reached for it.

"Mature? You know, I think I just realized what I don't like about dreamwalkers. They treat us like children-"

"It's not that!" Ted quickly interrupted, though he knew others who were responsible for that kind of treatment. "It's more that... I get embarrassed easily and..." he sighed. "I'd feel weird teaching you raunchy jokes when you don't even know the 'Inglisi alphabet."

Nari laughed, unconcerned. "Well maybe I'll be more interested in the boring stuff after you teach me something fun."

Someone handed him the funky instrument that Lisa insisted was a Na'vi-sized guitar; Ted insisted that no sane guitar has eight strings.

Too bad she wouldn't be moved, and he had more than enough time learning how to put those extra strings to use... kind of like having your own bass attached.

He started with Labia Limbo, deciding he might as well teach them how to do a round anyway, since the chorus repeated well enough that it could be done. He didn't really explain the meanings behind all of the phrases, but Nari seemed to understand more than he was telling... probably because she hogged the laptop for herself and timed the duo's amusingly graphic movements to the noises he taught them.

With a bit of work, he got a rough, really rough, translation of the introductory verses, which had the wounded laughing hard, as the men and women sang out responses.

They worked collectively on the songs, Ted teaching lyrics to things he knew how to play, then letting the other's do the hard work, until Rol'ei barked out a quick note that silenced everyone.

"There," he said, simply, pointing off into the distance.

"Looks like a cloud of dust," Ted replied. He shielded his eyes. Were those dark little dots in the middle of the dust cloud?

"Nantang," Nari whispered. Ted looked back into the wagon, realizing that most of his passengers had hidden behind the waist high walls that Rol'ei had insisted the wagons have.

"Nantang?" Viperwolves? "Surely not this far from the forest?"

"Another tribe," one of the men from Rol'ei's wagon stood up, using his bow to lean against. "They're nomads."

"Aren't the people at peace?"

"No," Rol'ei said. He slid down the side of his pa'li. Ted jumped off to steady him on the ground. Rol'ei gave him a quick, grateful glance, before turning to glare in the distance again. "They raid our land, when they can. Normally they are no match, but..."

"Do they have ikran?"

"No, they don't fly."

They all waited, pensive, for several long minutes, watching to see what would happen. Ted hoped that the Nantang had not noticed the small wagons at all... but the cloud never veered, simply got larger and larger against the horizon. They were coming.

"Do you have a plan, Singer?" asked the man with his bow.

"Torukmakto on the cliff's edge."

A murmur surrounded them. Ted looked around, confused.

"Cliff's edge?"

"Singer, I-"

Rol'ei cut him off with a glance. He lifted his chin and blasted out a painfully loud whistle. In the distance, Ted could hear Ratche calling back him him. The ikran had been circling the entire trip. She landed close by, while the others remained aloft.

Rol'ei had explained that they were ikran who'd stayed behind after the battle, either because they had been too wounded to return earlier, or their people were in the wagons below, or their people were never to return to them, and Ratche had heckled them to follow the group.

"Singer, you can't-" Rol'ei glared at Nari now, silencing her.

He touched Ted's shoulder a moment, not meeting his gaze before stamping off to Ratche, hiding his limp as best he could. Ted followed.

"Rol'ei, what does 'Torukmakto on the cliff's edge' mean anyway?"

"It is a tactic."

"As in, something only a Torukmakto would do?"

Rol'ei bent down to a reddish patch of dirt that'd been upturned by the pa'li's feet. He gathered a handful, and smeared his face with his Singer markings.

"Come."

Ted stepped up to him, unsure. Rol'ei applied the markings once more. Ted could feel his fingers trembling.

"Hopefully, if they catch you, they will honor the marks. They do not know as much about the Sky People, and the dreamwalkers, as the other clans do, so maybe they will not harm you."

"What are you-" Rol'ei silenced him with a dirty finger on his lips.

"Nari has been running her mouth so much, and she is young. Put her on my pa'li and run. Run as fast as you can to the east. I will hold them off as long as I can."

"Rol'ei..." Ted didn't like the tone of his voice, the quiet acceptance.

"I am sorry that I've been-"

"Stop," Ted said, covering the Singer's hand in his. "The way you're speaking, one would think you don't expect to see me again. You will hold them off, we will run, and you'll meet up with us again."

Rol'ei's smile was a sad one. Ted touched his forehead to the Singer's, then pulled him into a tight hug.

"I love you, Rol'ei," Ted said, with finality. No more couching words, no more hiding it. "Come back to me."

Rol'ei pulled back. His eyes moist. He swallowed. Nodded. Ratche cooed worriedly. Rol'ei touched his cheek one last time, then hopped onto Ratche's back with a limberness that Ted wondered at. With a whoop, they took off into the air. Ted stood for a moment, transfixed, as Ratche circled the remaining ikran, and herded them straight for the Nantang.

"Come, Little Singer," someone said behind him. He rubbed at an eye quickly, before anyone saw, and ran to hop back onto the pa'li.

One of the wounded hunters loaned him her bow and arrows, even when he plead that he had never shot one before. "Better to have a chance at defense than none," she insisted.

Rather than have Nari hop onto an unfamiliar animal, in fact none wanted the job at all, Ted had them tie the lead rope of the second pa'li to the back of his wagon. With little encouragement, both direhorses took off at a dead run. East wasn't the opposite direction of the Nantang; it was the direction of their home.

He forced his mind to catalog plants as they went, rather than wander in the direction of the acute angle of their travel compared to the unseen enemy. Rol'ei would give them enough time to make up for the longer distance they needed to travel...

Ted hoped that the great beasts had enough strength in their legs to get them there.

They ran silently, desperately, until the pa'li's sides heaved and bellowed and the dust cloud receded behind them. Ted pushed them further still.

He finally slowed when he felt one of the Na'vi touch the pa'li's rump to get his attention.

"Give them a break," Nari said somberly. "Tamaro can take them for a while."

The man, his arm still in a sling, took the lead rope. Ted slid down, his legs rubber weak, and went to sit in the back of his wagon.

He watched the horizon, adopting Rol'ei's earlier posture. Nari passed him a skin full of water. He sipped sparingly, not knowing when they would see more.

"What did he mean?" Ted asked.

"By what?"

"'Torukmakto on the cliff's edge.'"

Nari looked to a couple of the older warriors.

"Tell me, please."

"If he meant you to know, he would have said so."

"He as much as told me he won't come back alive."

She sighed. "Torukmakto, the third Torukmakto, had to defend his home and his people. In a great battle, he had his Toruk take great boulders, fly them high above the people's enemies, and drop them, smashing all below him. Rol'ei thinks he will frighten off our pursuers if he does the same."

"Toruk is much larger than ikran... will Ratche be able to lift boulders large enough?"

"She will heckle the others to make them listen. If they each take up smaller rocks, they might be able to frighten them away."

"Or stall them until we're far enough away."

She nodded.

Ted looked back at the second pa'li. Even without a rider, he could see see the skin damp with perspiration and the head lolling. They were used to the cool forest, and only having one or two riders, not this hard work.

He checked the horizon again. Nothing, yet.

"Anyone who can walk, get out of the wagons. We can't stop, but we need to give the pa'li a break."

As the able got out to walk, Ted gave both direhorse a few licks from the container of nectar he'd collected in the forest, and as much water as they wanted. They all walked until he could put his hand on the broad shoulder without feeling a burning heat. He bundled everyone back up into the wagons with a worried glance back at the horizon. A haze had developed, one that might be a dust cloud, or just atmosphere.

He didn't immediately take them back to a gallop, but a ground eating trot felt slow when everyone kept looking backwards. The tense silence continued, keeping everyone on edge, until finally Nari could take it no longer and hopped up behind him in the saddle.

"Oof! Could we go slower for a little? I think they're tired."

Ted eyed her over his shoulder, then checked the horizon. The haze had cleared. He frowned. Clear enough for now. He slowed the pa'li.

"Not exactly like an ikran, is it?" She commented, shifting her weight and inadvertently rubbing against him. At least, he hoped it wasn't intentional.

"I wouldn't know... how were you injured anyway?"

Nari tapped her temple. "Was knocked into Dreams for a couple days. When I woke, my ikran was gone and I couldn't balance right. Mo'at says I'm not all here anymore, but I can't tell a difference."

Her bright, slightly wild smile made Ted lean in Mo'at's direction on that diagnosis.

"Would you like to guide the other pa'li?"

"Oh no, this is odd enough."

She started humming and picking at his queue.

"Rol'ei's disguise wouldn't've worked," she commented conversationally.

"Disguise?"

She leaned around and poked at a smudge of reddish dirt on his cheek.

"He likes you."

Ted frowned, glad that his blush was hidden by dirt. How much had everyone heard? How much would he care? What if he didn't... "I like him too. He's a good friend."

"He's a prickly friend," she said with a loud laugh. "Thinks too much. Takes everything too seriously." Her fingers ran through his hair several times, before tugging at the tie. "This, though, would have told them you're a dreamwalker. I'm going to braid it better."

"Nari, I appreciate the thought, but-"

"Best to just let her braid it," one of the older men said. Bandages obscured half of his face. "She had it right, anyway. You'll stand out. Bad enough you're wearing Sky People clothes. Us, they'll kill outright. You, they'll torture."

Ted looked back and forth between some very serious faces before finally sighing. "Fine. Just don't shave it."

"Hmph."

Odd though Nari was, she worked quickly, partitioning and drawing a section of his hair into a thick French braid. She started at his forehead, mimicking the Na'vi's bulge along the top of his skull, and coiled it tight against his skin, before finally incorporating the false queue into his real one. Ted twitched, thinking about Jake's shaved pate, the marine's way to make the resemblance stronger.

"Need to do the sides," the bandaged man commented.

"Little braids," Nari decided, her fingers flicking fast and practiced, tossing finished ones into his eyes to keep them out of her way. "I like the way his hair flows. It's so soft."

His passengers snickered. He waited patiently, surprised how fast she was and how gentle.

"We need something to decorate you. No singer would be outside of his hammock without something shiny."

"I'm not really-"

"Oh! Stop the pa'li!"

She jumped off before he stopped completely, collecting delicate fluff from the plants about.

"Might as well take the pants off, while we're stopped."

Ted glared at the bandaged man. What is up with these Ikran People and their discrimination against pants?

He grumbled, sliding off long enough to switch to the Omaticaya clothing he'd brought with him, feeling a tad ridiculous in the loincloth and waist cincher with its decorative stitching; Rol'ei's idea. Theoretically for any ceremonies on their return to the ocean.

"Here." Nari grinned. She lifted a handful of seed fluff, long leaved grasses, and even a small seedpod for his inspection. Ted smiled.

"You know, I think these suit me more than any other decoration you could have chosen."

Her grin looked as though it might tear her mouth at the corners. She urged him back onto the pa'li, eager even in her half-mad state to continue the trek, and settled herself behind again so she could weave her decorations into his slim braids.

They pushed on well into twilight, Ted too nervous to allow them to stop for anything longer than the necessities, and the occasional refill of the water bladders when they found a fresh stream. The darker it got, the more worried he became.

"He will be alright," Nari would occasionally reassure. Ted wished he could believe it.

"I give up," Ted finally said.

"Give up?"

"It's too dark."

"Let's go to that ridge," someone behind him urged. "It looks familiar. I think it's close to home."

Ted pushed the pa'li onward. A whoop behind him startled him, then cheering. Off in the distance, he could just make out great fires.

"Can the pa'li go farther, Ted? We're so close!"

Ted grinned. "We'll try."

The light in the dark gave them all hope, the direhorse a second wind. They galloped along the ridgeline as though they had not been running for their lives all day long. Ted's voice joined the joyous chorus.

They arrived with little ceremony but plenty of warm hands helping injured from the wagons. For some reason, all of the Ikran Clan seemed to be awake and ready to help.

"I'll lead to you to the rookery," Nari said, staying in the wagon with him. "There is some space behind it that the pups play in. It will be safe for the pa'li until you take them home."

The ikran's area was an interesting mix of cavelets, crags, and walkways leading down to the cliffs, and presumably, the ocean. Ted led the exhausted pa'li well away from the main area. He helped Nari down from the wagon, unconsciously held her shoulder when he saw her sway, and asked her help to remove the traces from the poor beasts. They had sores from the ropes, sweat, and exertion.

Ted opened one of the containers of nectar and left it between them, so they could drink their fill.

He turned to the ocean, the breeze cooling against his damp, sore flesh. He wondered if there was a way he could take the two of them down to the water for a good scrub down. Tomorrow, perhaps. Tonight...

Wait. That silhouette.

One of the ikran raised its head, eying the animals on the edge of its area.

"Are you sure they're safe here?" Ted worried.

"Sure as... hey!"

At the sound of their voices, the ikran bounded over to them. Ted laughed for joy.

If the silhouette seemed vaguely familiar, that silly, boneless hop was doubly so.

"Ratche!"

Ted caught her about the snout, rubbing the ridge under her jaw and let himself get bowled over.

"Eh, I was wondering what the old girl was getting up in a fuss over."

Ted craned his neck up to try and see who approached. He could make out one foot, and the light of a weak torch.

"Txantslusam!" Wise-one?

Nari pounced whomever carried the torch with as much exuberance as Ratche. Ted worked his way out from under Ratche's enthusiastic mass.

At first glance, Txantslusam looked like an incredibly wizened Na'vi, certainly the oldest Ted had ever seen but then... a certain sinewiness to the muscle perhaps? Or the uneven strength of how he caught Nari's form? Ratche stayed glued to his side as the Na'vi approached.

"I see you, Little Singer of the Omaticaya."

"I-" Ted wasn't sure how to correct him... and tried not to stare at anything other than his eyes.

No, not old. Perhaps no older than Rol'ei, but disfigured. His skin covered in so many old scars they looked like the winkles of age. Burn scars. Chemical burns.

Ted'd seen injuries from the Sky People, but these... these were brutal. Torture.

"I see Ratche is here! Does that mean Rol'ei is here?"

"He speaks with Olo'eyktan," Txantslusam told Nari, his eyes soft when he looked at her. How had his eyes remained so perfect in the ragged horror of his face?

"I'll go tell him we're here safe!"

She bounded off to where the na'vi gathered around large, wedge-shaped tent structures.

"Why don't you stay here, Little Singer. Things are... chaotic, and I'm sure they are not prepared to receive outsiders."

"What happened?"

He tipped his head, first one way, then another, so his hair, unbraided and unadorned, fell over his face.

"Come, I have my duties to finish."

Ted checked on the pa'li quickly, then caught up with Txantslusam as he wound his way around the ikran nests.

"With all of the uproar of the Great Singer returning, the ikran have been in a flurry."

Ted patted Ratche's neck as she ambled along beside them.

"But, you asked what happened. Rol'ei has returned shortly before sunset, and there has been a conference since. The Nantang have been threatening lately, without the warriors here to protect us. Now they count our number, and see injured returning, and count us weak. The Great Singer and the Olo'eyktan are deciding the best tact to take."

"I see," Ted said, not really.

As Txantslusam spoke, we checked on very young ikran within the nests of their parents. Ratche seemed to know the pattern, distracting the parents while Txantslusam lifted the young, check it, fed it a little something, then set it back in the nest. They moved their way down to a larger grotto, this one filled only with adults. Several Ted recognized from the journey.

"I suppose I should introduce myself, I'm-"

"I know who you are."

The flare of life, of anger, in Txantslusam's eyes, as he spun on Ted, made him realize how very much an outsider he was. Working with the Omaticaya could easily make one forget.

"I have known the Sky People better than most, and well before any of the dream walking demons came to our shores. But I will treat you civilly, and keep you safe here, away from the people, because our Great Singer requested it of me.

"He speaks well of you. And Ratche likes you. If it were not for that, I would spit you here."

At her name, Ratche butted first against Ted, then against the na'vi, and turned to lead the way into the wounded.

"I am to stay with you?"

"Most likely Rol'ei and the other able-bodied warriors will go to run the Nantang off." Ted did not miss the emphasis on "able-bodied." "I will keep you safe."

Ratche let out a distressed yelp. Ted passed Txantslusam and went straight for where he saw a flurry of wings as Rol'ei's friendly ikran forced her way through grumpy, wounded, and tired ikran. Ted's passage behind her was barely registered.

When he'd finally caught up, he found her cooing, nosing, at a an eerily still ikran on the ground.

Txantslusam skidded to a stop a moment behind him.

"Ah, it is only Tanhi Taftxuyu."

Star Weaver.

Ratche nudged him, calling urgently, looking to Txantslusam in panic.

"I am sorry." he said to her, remaining where he stood.

Ted moved to comfort her, circling an arm around her muzzle, intent to lead her away from another victim of the battle. A cry, so quiet it was barely more than the hissing exultation of air, stopped him, and sent Ratche further into a panic.

"He's still alive! You must do something!"

Txantslusam shook his head slowly, remaining still.

"Here we have the wounded. Many here have lost their people. It is an injury to the heart that can never be fully healed. Without their makto, they might leave these cliffs, but most stay. A few take new makto. No one can replace what is lost; the bond is often weaker because their heart has broken and they can not stand to give it away again.

"Tanhi Taftxuyu has outlived four ikran makto. He returned before the battle was won. He has not eaten since. Ratche." she looked up as he called her name. He turned, and left to tend other wounds. Ratche looked back and forth a moment, unsure, before following.

Ted stayed, watching the great ikran as the light from the torch receded. In the light, Ted had been able to see tendrils of dark blue and hints of purple, but now, he could barely make out the nearly-black hunk. Even the bioluminescence seemed dim, compared to the bickering ikran around them. Vaguely, he could make out the glimmer of the eyes watching him weary.

His hands strayed to the beast's muzzle of their own accord; stroking the sides gently like Ratche seemed to enjoy. He could barely make out the poor guy calling out again for a na'vi he would never again connect with. Guilt tugged at his heart, along with the sorrow he saw naked in the ikran's eyes.

So much sadness. So much death.

Ted sighed and finally turned to follow them, aching for the vibrancy of Ratche's company, even if Rol'ei was busy elsewhere.

That night he slept in Ratche's rookery nook, since he was offered nothing else. Even when he'd return to his human body, miles and miles away, he'd barely had energy enough to eat and pull himself into the cot someone'd kindly situated next to the link-up.

When he woke, and awoke again, however, her big warm body was already gone.

So were many of the other ikran, he noticed.

"They've gone on the hunt," Txantslusam said, simply. "There is work to be done here. They will return when they return."

So, Ted hunkered down to help as best he could. The scarred Na'vi directed him to do everything from scrubbing out fecal matter to tending wounds, scrubbing bodies, and even preparing a fish mash.

Txantslusam left him alone frequently with his menial tasks to do the more interesting things. After scrubbing one particularly nasty nest out, he took a breather to watch as the Na'vi tenderly fed the mash to individual young ikran. The nest, it seemed, belonged to a cluster of freshly hatched banshees without parents to care for them.

The scarred Na'vi thought he was insane when he offered to try the technique with some of the ikran who were too wounded to eat, but bid him try.

He also wrapped the resulting wounds with more care than Ted's expected. And with no comments. However, Ted certainly didn't miss the I-told-you-so smirk.

He stuck to cleaning out the cesspits after that.

When the sun finally set, Ted fell back into Ratche's nest in an exhausted heap.

Only then did Txantslusam pass by with a water skin, a hunk of cold, raw fish, and a small grunt of approval.

"Thank you," Ted said, meaning it. It felt good to be helpful... and it kept his mind off of worrying over Rol'ei. He "dozed off" before he could finish all of the meal, and ended up waking up to find one of the nestling ikran sneaking off with it.

The second day followed pretty much the same. He worried about the pa'li, but Txantslusam assured him that a mash made of broth and cooked grains would sustain them. Never-the-less, they fed them the last of the nectar Ted had brought.

"I'll have to leave tomorrow," Ted said, worried.

"You can wait until the day after tomorrow," Txantslusam said with a grunt. Ted quickly caught the other side of the strange ceramic vessel he'd been dragging. They moved it over a buried fire. "Leave the wagons here. They will travel faster. And we will see if they like this mash."

Ted found himself liking the taciturn na'vi. He cared deeply for all of the ikran. Ted learned, from Nari when she brought over a meal on the second day, that Txantslusam had lost his ikran when he had been caught by...certain long dead individuals... and had not left the rookery since.

"He is like the old ikrans here," she said, talking with her mouth full of half chewed food. "Part of him wants to walk into the ocean, but there always seems to be something for him to do to keep him here, keep him working. A young one abandoned, an old one aching from the winter winds, learning to fly, to fish, to feed... He does not come back to the village now, but we all trust him with our mounts. And we bring him food and clothing, if the ikran do not bring him what he needs."

Ted smiled at that. He'd already noticed that most of Txantslusam's clothing was made from the skins of ocean animals, his food all fish brought to him by one ikran or another.

His thoughts turned to the ikran from the first night... he hadn't returned to see if Star Weaver still lived. There were enough other tasks to see to, and Txantslusam kept him well away.

Nari and Ted exchanged a few more pleasantries, before the scarred Na'vi found him slacking off and set him back to task. Too many wounded to be lazy and talk and eat. Ted grinned and went back to work.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Rol'ei reached out. He stretched as far as his life would take him. Dark fog. Dark as death lay before him. Behind him. All around him.

A pressure lifted off of his heart as a torchlight cut through the murk. He forced his way towards the spark of light. Swam hard against the current. The light blossomed into a pale field of grain, ripened, but under the cold light of an impending storm.

He watched his body wade through row after row, the neat plantings reminding him of...

At first he walked, but as the unending sea of grass swept him along a frantic need touched his heart.

He had to get away. Escape. Find...

There. A shadowy grove. Safety as the storm broke overhead. Rain that did not cool his skin blurred his vision.

Warm hands welcomed him into the shade, swept the wet from his skin, his eyes, clearing them.

Rol'ei blinked up. The dreamwalker stood, his face so dear, his eyes so sad. He reached for the singer, trying to touch, to guide, but Rol'ei would not let the two-bodied spirit approach. Couldn't take his eyes off of...

The hole. A great rend in Ted's chest, opening him for all of Eywa's own to see right through... to see his very heart.

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Rol'ei sreamed, he called and fought. Come back to life! Come back to me!

Too late.

Darkness took them both.

Hard, calloused hands touched his cheek.

"Wake, Brother."

Rol'ei swallowed down the hard knot in his throat and forced his eyes open. The face of his beloved sister looked down on him, her visage nearly expressionless behind her usual war paint.

"I was dreaming again?" his voice rasped.

"If you call those Dreams, I'm glad I am Olo'eyktan."

"Mother always did say our destinies were switched at birth."

"If night screams were a part of my destiny, it's no wonder I gave them to you."

Rol'ei bowed his head, ashamed. Sometimes the dreams Eywa chose to give were... difficult. He glanced across to the others; most of them feigned sleep while a couple openly stared at the siblings. They were used to such displays, but while on the hunt, he might very well have given away their position.

Especially on these damn plains. Sound carried here like a seedling on the breeze.

Kame'awve nodded at his questioning glance. Yes, he had woken everyone. Again. She motioned over to their ikran, sleeping side-by-side a goodly distance from the others. They settled against Ratche's broad side. Ska'a, her ikran, opened his eyes only slightly before sighing and returning to his own land of dreams.

His sister brought her whetstone and sharped her blade while they talked; as children, they'd learned to speak with the sound to hide their conspiracies from prying adult ears.

"The same dream?"

She huffed in frustration at his nod.

"That makes three nights now you've had it. Rol'ei, you must tell me what is going on! What is happening to make you suffer so?"

"I can't talk to-" a hand on his arm stopped him.

"You know I am your sister before I am your Olo'eyktan. Have we not always been able to speak to one another? Have I not come to you when the troubles of the clan were too great for my shoulders? Have you not sought me when the song would not come? Have we not always supported each other in all things?"

Rol'ei stared off to the dark horizon. Kame'awve waited for him, her nimble hands continuing their familiar work.

"I can not yet speak of the dream," he began tentatively. "I don't understand it all yet and it troubles me... but there is definitely a message of warning, and I worry for the safety of... someone I've left behind."

Kame'awve's swift mind speared her prey with an accurate dart.

"You've fallen in love!"

Rol'ei nodded.

"With someone you don't want to talk about, it seems. No wonder you've been such a grump. Is that why you wished to stay behind? If must be one of the Omaticaya! Oh, Brother. I know it will be hard for our people to accept you finding a mate from another clan but... well, it has been so hard. For both of us."

She grasped his hand firmly, her smile brighter than the stars.

For a moment he berated himself for forgetting. For not thinking of his wonderful, powerful Olo'eyktan. Every day his age and as mateless as he.

"Not from the Omaticaya." Sixteen clans at the battle. Of all the souls gathered there...

"One of the Pa'li Clan?" If only they _had_ been switched at birth, he mused momentarily. If he were in his sister's body, he could be Tsahik. Not such a far stretch, really. He could learn to heal the wounds of his people, could walk with Eywa... and love a man without question. If only that man weren't a...

"No. Not a dreamwalker. Not one of the demons, Brother?" Curse Kame'awve and her arrow-swift mind.

"They are not all so bad. Torukmakto is-"

"But he is Torukmakto! He is different! He-"

A rustle in the grass interrupted her. Both their ikran became alert at the noise. Rol'ei pursed his lips and whistled loud and clear into the night. Inconvenient as his dreaming terrors were, thanks to them none were asleep for the ambush.

The prey had found their predator.

The nantang came first, rushing over Na'vi and going straight for the ikran.

Kame'awve ran for her bow. Rol'ei stayed at Ratche's side, protecting her with his blade.

Bodies swarmed so thick none could take to the skies. Ratche snapped and flung away those Rol'ei could not reach while he slashed wildly at those he could. Screams and yowls of dying nantang filled the dark.

Where were their people?

Too late, Rol'ei heard the Nantang Warrior's cry. The arrow bit deep into his shoulder. Ratche threw herself over him, jaws first into the archer. Another arrow sailed harmlessly overhead before a loud crunch ended that life.

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Rol'ei gripped the protruding arrow but couldn't budge it. Ratche's sharp teeth snapped through the neck of another nantang, giving him a painful idea.

He grabbed one of her tendrils and connected tsahaylo. A quick push from her bigger body got the barbed tip through. She snapped off both barb head and fletching, leaving the shaft in to slow the bleeding. With a protective cup of her wing, he climbed up onto her back.

Rol'ei kept his immobile left arm tucked tight against his stomach as Ratched snapped at the mass of bodies.

"Rol'ei!"

Kame'awve's scream ran down his spine like an ice flow. Ratche batted aside some, landed on others, and clawed her way through to get to the Olo'eyktan.

Two hunters flanked her. A downed ikran between them; thankfully not Kame'awve's. Ratche added her might to the protective force.

"Riti," one of the others said, between arrows. Rol'ei searched the darkness. The stingbat's poisonous tail barbs could kill, if a na'vi received a full dose.

Why any fool would be so insane as to take any of the pebble-brained creatures in as a pet, he had no idea.

One of Kame'awve's arrows flicked his nose as she struck one of the pests out of the air. Rol'ei heard, more than saw, it plop bodily to the ground.

Rol'ei's good arm burned; the nantang wisely circled, darted in, snapped at unprotected flesh as their people's weapons sang above them. They grew brave, leaping as one upon one of the flagging hunters at Kame'awve's side, dragging him down.

Ratche leapt over the bodies, diving, crunching, but the damage had already been done. Rol'ei didn't have more than a moment to spend in sorrow before he felt the hit.

They screamed. A offensive zip-pop the only warning of the riti catching his mighty ikran in her flank. Rol'ei slashed, cleaving head from body.

Numbness swelling outward, proceeding with firebrand burning. The image of an out-of-control plains fire rampaging across Ratche's bright mind. Rol'ei considered getting off and disconnecting from her, but the wall of panic that flew up at his consideration decided him. With monumental effort, he forced his injured hand to grasp her queue harness and redoubled his efforts.

A ululation surrounded the battle.

No.

They looked about them, frantic. Where was Kame'awve? Where Ska'a?

Above, Ratche sang to him, her heart light.

Kame'awve's ikran trumpeted, drawing eyes upward at his very imposing bass voice.

Rol'ei used the distraction, slashing down over a warrior's forearm.

_Help_, Ratche sighed in relief.

Her ikran wasn't attempting to distract, but rallying others who had been circling, looking for this very tribe.

Whoops carried over the plains. Three clusters that he could see. A show of force.

It was enough.

An unfamiliar whistle blasted and the Nantang, people and beasts, disappeared like smoke in the wind. Those aloft chased after their retreat. The disgusting buzz of the riti swelled up and after the chasing ikran. Ratche bunched to launch herself after them.

"Easy." he said aloud, internally convincing her to remain with their wounded brothers. Truly a mighty warrior's heart beat in her breast.

Too bad her makto was only a Singer.

The first light of dawn shimmered over the gory battlefield. Ratche whined under him, eager to continue.

Truthfully? His blood sang with the need as well.

Using Ratche's sharper eyes, he gazed at the downed na'vi, nantang, and riti. Too much blood and death. Rol'ei's lips pulled back in a firm, determined line. Not every battle could be won with brute strength alone.

By the time Kame'awve and the others returned from chasing off the remainder of the warriors, he had everything settled. Ratche finished off the injured nantang; Rol'ei took care of the more difficult task.

"Great Singer?"

Rol'ei stood proud in front of his catch. Fists on hips. Chin in the air. Only vaguely leaning to release the pain in his bad leg. And shoulder. Not exactly the time to show weaknesses.

"Olo'eyktan." he bowed slightly, hand to his forehead in deference. A show for his small audience. "I present your prisoners."

Three nantang warriors knelt before him: two male and one female. Arms bound up and over their head and lashed to crossed ankles.

Kame'awve's war paint effectively covered her surprise. The others, however, actively stared first at the three captives, then at their typically amiable Singer, and back again.

The female had been injured already, her shoulder dislocated, when he went to tie her. Fresh teeth marks lined her shoulder where Ratche held her so he could jerk the bone back into it's socket. He didn't envy that pain.

The other two were pin-cushioned. Without a steady pair of hands, Rol'ei directed Ratche to snip the ends of their arrows like his own. They bled freely.

Kame'awve gave clipped orders for their hunter's to check the wounded, and make sure that those too injured were taken care of. She directed four of the fittest to remain with their captives. With a sharp jut of her chin, she ordered Rol'ei far enough away that their whispers wouldn't be heard.

"What are you thinking?" she slapped his intact shoulder. "They could have killed you!"

"They're wounded. And Ratche assured they remained still while I tied them."

"At first I was worried about your injuries," she flicked the protruding arrow shaft. Rol'ei flinched. "But obviously our Great Singer is too mighty to be brought down by something so simple. Skxawng!"

Rol'ei failed to duck the smack to the back of his head. He growled at her.

"Beat me, if you wish, but don't neglect the opportunity."

"Opportunity?" she asked with incredulity.

"They hide and out run us for days? They on foot, we on ikran? Something is going on that we should know about. They," he pointed, "Hold the answers."

Dark comprehension clouded her eyes. "You are right, Brother. Is Ratche fit to fly?"

"Her side still burns from the riti, but she is ready."

"Go back to the clan, bring back the Omaticaya's pa'li ... and those strange contraptions. Then we can carry back our captives."

"The pa'li..." Dread crept up into his stomach. His eyes turned to the sun. How many days had passed? Four now? Ted has said... Ted had said they would need to return within a day or two, hadn't he. Oh Eywa...

He swallowed; steadied himself.

"No, the pa'li needed to be returned. We will have to find another way to take them home."

She frowned at the three. "Ska'a can carry one with me. ...Would Ratche?"

Rol'ei nodded, sure that she would do anything to help. He wasn't certain she'd be able to take too much weight... "The female, at least," he conceded.

Kame'awve nodded. "Fine. If nothing else, I suppose we can release one. Perhaps tales of our ruthlessness will scare the rest of the Nantang off."

"Or drive them into a frenzy for revenge," Rol'ei countered, thinking of all the times in the past that they had done just that.

She made a noise that meant nothing on her way back to the three. One of the younger hunters met them, his hands filled with some ointment or other for their wounds. Rol'ei gave it barely as glance as the hunter wrapped the arrow shaft down tight, for more skilled hands to remove on their return. He studied his sister as she eyed the three.

Rol'ei hoped she would choose the smaller of the two males, but knew better. Kame'awve held her position with skill, along with bloodlines. No hunter could beat her for shooting, or fighting. He still sported a scar or two from their childhood tussles.

No, she would choose the greater one. The one who, even with blood weeping from a cut on his cheek and several blossoming gashes on his torso, glared at them with such murderous hatred... he had no doubt what would happen if the male got his hands free.

Like the Nantang from his mother's tales, he was decorated with crudely prepared leathers... mostly from the nantang's bodies. His headdress nothing more than the salt-cured skull of one, the skin pulling away from the gums in a permanent snarl, eye sockets filled glittering stones. Rol'ei's own lips pulled back in disgust.

Kame'awve stepped up to the hate-filled creature, wrapped his queue around her fist, and pulled up until he snarled in pain.

"Cut his feet loose."

One of the others did as she bid.

"One step wrong, one attempt to get away, and I take your queue and their's as well. I will braid them together and they will decorate my p'ah s'ivil chey. I will tell the story of the cowardly Nantang to my children and their children. Do you understand?"

The tightening around his eyelids was enough for her. She dragged him to Ska'a by his queue. He stumbled, but fought to remain upright.

Kame'awve's ikran let out a questioning twill, but accepted the task once they linked. Smartly, his sister bent the nantang warrior over Ska'a's back and tied him so that his head was between the left wings, and his tail between the right. Off balance, he would have a difficult time attempting an attack. With a careful grace, she mounted above him, taking his queue again, but this time tying it tightly to her bow carrying strap.

All she had to do was jump off of her ikran at height to unman him.

She ordered one of her trusted hunters to take the other male, who fought until a knife was brought to his queue. He stilled with the threat, but was gagged before being bodily thrown onto the hunter's ikran.

Rol'ei took the female's queue in his hand, feeling ugly for insinuating the threat he doubted he could carry out. The wide, terrified eyes only made the task more difficult.

"If you promise not to fight, you may sit astride."

She looked back and forth between her clan brothers.

"I listen," she whispered, fearfully.

"Good."

Rol'ei still had the others tie her feet in place, but left her hands tied in front of her. "Because of the dislocated shoulder," he explained. She held onto his waist cincher as Ratche took her ungainly leap into the sky.

Kame'awve left several behind to deal with the few who could not fly.

Ratche's distress was his own as they turned homeward. The weight hard to carry. His concern about the possibilities the captives could bring making her strong heart tight.

He let her fly low, close enough to the ground to make him nervous, so if her wings did falter, the landing would not hurt as much. It helped that he could keep a better eye on the laden ikran ahead of him.

Home.

The standing tents on the cliff's edge never looked so welcoming. So terrifying.

Oh Eywa, Ted. He'd left without a word of explanation. Been so desperate to protect his people...

No, Rol'ei lied to himself, Ratche mentally prodded him. He smiled sadly. He'd run, instead of facing the potential pain. Yes, he'd offered to stay with the Omaticaya... with the dreamwalkers, but truly accepting that offer in his heart was much more difficult when facing the people he loved. His sister. His clan.

With Kame'awve's blessing, though... perhaps they would stay with the Omaticaya, but returning to them by choice would be easier on everyone.

He groaned. She hadn't given her blessing. The cursed Nantang...

Ratche dipped a wing, bringing his thoughts sharply back to the present. The female behind him threw tied arms around his shoulders and wept openly against his back. Terror of flight. He hadn't thought the savages terrified of anything.

Dark specks in the distance captured Ratche's attention. He focused though her eyes.

Ikran. Swarming. He urged Ratche up to fly alongside Ska'a.

"The ikran are up in arms!"

She waited a few wing beats, waiting to see it herself before responding.

"They're flying over the ocean," she responded.

No clans came at them from that side, the deep sea creatures that spawned off of their shore saw to that. No need to tell the ikran to hurry. Circling like that could mean many things; nothing good. It would be a matter more of slowing their battle-weary mounts so that would not attempt to get home any faster and joining the swarm.

Dread seized his heart. A single ikran learning to fly rarely drew them this close. A couple, maybe... or worse, one of the people might draw them into the shallows. Even then, it was so rare to see what looked like the entire flock circling to protect whomsoever was below.

Ratche landed for him at the first patch of foot-smoothed earth. He had trouble prying his captive off, his back sopping wet from her panicked sobs. Kame'awve landed just as he got the girl's clawed hands off of his armor.

Rol'ei dragged the nantang warrior behind him as he hurried past the deserted tents. There!

It seemed the whole clan stood on the cliff's edge, watching the aerial display.

Rol'ei shoved his captive into the arms of a bulky warrior on the margins of the crowd, saying little more than "Hold her!" or meaning to, before shoving his way through the people until he could clearly see.

From the air, he could make out little more than their darting bodies driving off one of the sea beasts.

From here... his worse thoughts come true.

"Who is it?" He asked

"Not sure," came the universal reply.

He moved through the eerily quiet crowd, making his way down the footpath to the narrow strip of beach below.

He stood there, stunned as the rest of his clanmates, as a sinuous male stepped out of the ocean.

Rol'ei's blood roared in his ears. His breath rasped in his throat. His eyes seemed only able to focus to one point, one speck, before shifting to another, never able to settle long enough to truly see what was before him. Omaticaya waist wrap. Straining ikran. Uniform minute braids falling loose around toned shoulders; rivulets running down them to caress the heavily panting chest, taunt stomach...

"Rol'ei, I-"

A great tsunami wave crashed over him. His legs suddenly weak; weighed down by boulders.

Ted.

All Eywa's own spun around him.

He didn't remember the ascending climb. Flickering tide of confuses faces swallowed him.

Kame'awve stood by her ikran, her captive still on the great beast's back. Pxi, the hunter he'd handed his captive to, waited at her side.

"Is anything the matter, Great Singer?"

He shook his head slowly. Nothing he could speak of in front of the Nantang. She nodded, seeming to understand.

"Pxi, begin a feast. We neglected to celebrate the return of the rest of our hunters."

He touched his forehead and left to do as he was bid, leaving the girl back in Rol'ei's care. Ioang, the makto of the third laden ikran, landed near-by. Kame'awve waited until the hunter was close enough to hear without shouting.

"A feast is being prepared. We have our own preparations to complete."

Rol'ei didn't like the feral smile playing on Ioang's lips, but said nothing. The nantang girl leaned in against him.

She whimpered.

Suddenly, he had no taste for what might have to be done.

* * *

Kame'awve – Olo'ekytan of the Ikran Clan (appeared in the movie, but was unnamed)  
Rol'ei – Singer for the Ikran Clan  
Ted – Edward Cera, Avatar ethnobotanist. A specialist in nutritional values of Pandoran plants.

Tsahaylu (Ted commonly mis-says "the halo" without realizing it) - the bond/neural connection  
Tsahik - shaman, matriarch  
Olo'eyktan - clan leader  
Ikran (Banshee) – Four-winged flying mount, wingspan 13.9 meters (with Sea ikran easily reaching 15 or more)  
Pa'li (Direhorse) – six-legged horse mount, 4 meters tall  
Nantang (Viperwolf) – small, dark, sleek, six-legged dog creature. Lives in packs.  
Riti (stingbats) - four-winged flying reptile, sometimes kept as a dangerous pet, wingspan of 1.2 meters, poisoned tail tip  
P'ah s'ivil chey (or just chey) – personal belongings rack


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Ted looked up from a particularly stubborn clump of feces. Txantslusam stood silently next to him, facing the ocean horizon. Ted set his make-shift chisel – a shoulderblade from some critter – and turned to see what caught his attention.

At first, the roughness of the waters disguised it. But there. Even years out of the red spandex, he easily picked out the splash of a distressed swimmer. Without hesitation he began struggling to release the ties of his waist cincher.

"Wait," the scarred Na'vi said.

"Someone's drowning!"

"It is a first flight," he replied, matter-of-factly. "Unlike Omaticaya, if our young fall their first try, they can swim back."

"The currents are dragging him out!"

"It happens, if an ikran is now strong enough."

The cold passivity reminded him of some of the animal behavioral scientists; observing the ebb and flow of nature around them, but not a part of it. Never intruding on the "natural order of things."

"Screw that," he grumbled in English.

Ted climbed down a level and ran for the cliff that overhung the waves below. He couldn't undo the damn ties – the cords stiff from his sweat – but plucked out Nari's gifts from his hair while watching the struggling ikran pup. A long swim, and getting longer. He gauged a couple landmarks to give him direction and eyed the water directly below.

"Damn. Should have taken more cliff diving classes."

Just to make sure, he gave himself a running start. With a last glance at the frantic splashes, and the hopefully deep water below, he swan dived.

Cold, deep water welcomed him, rushing over in the surge of a wave. His body sliced down and away from the cliffs. Ted stayed underwater as long as he could, escaping the worst of the battering torrent of the waves on the rocky cliffs. He felt the forces tug and pull, but the avatar body moved as if designed for this kind of work.

He barely paused when he finally broke for air; a quick glance at the shore. The great curved tents, standing like Eywa's canines, marked the direction well.

Ted reminded himself to thank Nari for braiding his hair. The free stroke wasn't his favorite in the best of times, but it was fast; faster when his thick long hair didn't need to be constantly flicked out of his eyes.

The ikran pup wasn't at the spot he'd sighted. Ted tread water, letting the waves lift him higher. Where... where... please not sunk! He swam, head up, following where the current led. He shouted in Na'vi. He hoped... and then, there!

He dove under again and kicked for all he was worth.

The pup bleated a distress call. Ted followed it to the weak, thrashing creature.

"Crap. Now what do I do with you?"

Typically, in this situation, he'd approach from behind, and wrap an arm around – ideally catching the victim under one arm and the ribcage – and scissor kick back; the stroke worked well to keep a human head above water while still keeping his legs, and one arm, free to swim.

Having breathing vents down on the ribcage made everything much more difficult.

The pup's distress call escalated. Panicked.

Damn. Nothing for it but to try. Ted lunged forward and grasped the beast. For all his youth, he had a wiry, desperate strength and no apparent interest in being rescued. Ted held tight, kicking hard while forcing as much of the tyke's upper body out of the water as he could.

Any attempt at soothing words, in Na'vi or English, were lost between grit teeth and the waves.

After being twacked by a wing one time too many, Ted considered knocking him out with a right hook. Alright, not really, he grumbled, kicking in the general direction of shore, but severely tempted.

A series of louder screeches stopped the more violent thoughts.

"Great, and audience."

The pup's struggles caught up again as seemingly every adult from the rookery circled overhead.

"Now the question is, are you watching for the hell of it or..." an ear bleeding scream shocked him so much the pup slid completely under for a moment. "CRAP!"

Ted got the ikran above the waves again, but not before the cries above took a decidedly angry turn. "Shit, shit, shit," became his mantra as he struggled towards shore.

Ted kept an eye skyward and an eye on the jutting tents in the distance. He tried to not duck under the waves himself as the adult ikran started darting down in intimidating sweeps.

They're just trying to scare you away from the pup, he thought. They don't understand. It'll be okay. I'm not going to eat him!

His heart froze as the he heard little plops. Please, not stones.

When the next wave lifted them up, all he could see was adults grazing the water all around him. Darting down, throwing their heads down, snapping those huge beaks right on the water's surface... those sharp... killer... teeth...

Never thought I'd rather see a shark in the water.

Ted's heart leapt into his throat as another splash behind him warned him a moment before a surge of water overtook him. He struggled to keep the pup above the crest of the water.

"Crap!" One dove in! Thought of swimming away as fast as possible were stayed by a fresh distress cry.

Wouldn't an adult be able to swim back on her own? Or not be stupid enough to dive in if she couldn't?

"Double crap." Even after the hundreds of nests Ted'd cleaned, he recognized that face.

Tanhi Taftxuyu. Star Weaver.

Ted turned to the violent thrashing.

The enormity, the impossibility, of trying to rescue not one, but two terrified ikran struck hard as he fought the last couple waves to get to the struggling older male.

And idea curled around the back of his brain.

"A seriously ill-conceived idea," Grace's voice whispered. "If you're going to do something that stupid, at least do it quickly!"

Ted gulped down as much air as his lungs would hold, released the pup, and dove.

Disconnectedly, Rol'ei's voice, perhaps more the tone of his annoyance, about how dull, how empty the pa'li's mind, echoed in his thoughts.

* * *

The battle. Warriors and ikran aloft. Wind filling his wings. He flew more with the flock around him than the warrior on his back. He flew with joy in his heart.

Today would be the last day. His final song grew in his breast. His rider's certainty a solid lump in her heart.

When the Last Shadow called, all answered. He was this hunter's second ikran; she, his fourth hunter.

They had chosen... no, wrong feeling... touched only this morning. Sorrow over the other ikran filled this woman's heart. Too familiar sorrow. She wished to fly into the ocean with him. Duty brought her to this battle.

The _thmthmthm_ demons came to sacred air. He defended. They bit and spit shards of acid. He flung himself bodily into their hallow cavities. Crunched the little demons within.

_Attattrattatt_ they bit into ikran flesh. Burning. Fire. One _attatt_ deeper, sharper. Then, gone.

The woman fell limp into the forest deep below. He knew well the deep emptiness that touched his soul before she tumbled. There was nothing left of this hunter.

Starweaver fell from the _thmthmthm_. They did not follow as he spiraled down.

Almost, he let his body crash unimpeded into the trees below.

Salt of Eywa's sea called to him.

No. He would not die here.

His mighty wings groaned under the strain as he turned back to the nests.

* * *

Ted gasped for air; half lost in the pain of loss.

Damn Rol'ei, he thought, wrestling with the tendrils of his queue back into place.

"Surface!" He shouted. Just stay-

* * *

Fight. Fighting hunter and...

He needed to fight. To feel the wind under his wings. To feel the blood of his prey in his jaws. Slick over teeth and tongue. Face covered in the oily heat of their death.

His hunter recoiled.

A timid one. Barely a hunter.

This one feared the water. That suited Starweaver. They hunted over land, picking off angtsik in packs. His blood sang with the heat.

The third forever pulling him back, giving the kill to another pair, always urging him to return to the rear of the pack, keeping him behind the action. Until a stray arrow fouled his wing mid-turn.

Falling forever. They flipped tail over gills again and again, until the hard rocks below caught them. The winds dragged his body onward, scraping them several lengths until they finally stopped.

His body immobile. Crushed.

No. Not his body, his hunter.

Starweaver struggled against the connection. Pain, unstoppable, unbearable pain, crippled him. Fear washed over the tsahaylu.

Vaguely, he heard the others land around him. Hands touching, trying to roll him. He screamed, lashed out.

Darkness. Numbness.

He felt the endless voice haunting him. Real fear took his heart.

Then... nothing.

Starweaver turned.

This blood so sickening. So repulsive. This crunch of bones so alien.

He pulled. His queue stuck... intertwining with...

Calm, sure hands grasped their frozen connection, separating forcefully before his panic could overtake him.

Familiar ikran bodies pressed in against him, whispering of sorrow. Accident. Forgiveness.

The Na'vi spoke. He did not hear.

He watched from afar as they brought the empty shell, the broken body, back to the nests. Flew for days over the ocean. Skimmed the surface with beak and wingtip. The deep calling to him...

* * *

"Above the surface!"

So hard to stay in his body. A font of information open like an encyclopedia. Hell, the fucking Oxford English Dictionary. Unabridged edition. Tantalizing him to simply sink down into the warm welcome depths...

* * *

Warm arms wrapped around his muzzle.

She connected their tsahaylu so he could feel the little life burgeoning within.

The pregnancy had been difficult. Her mate worried. The tsahik recently passed.

The only way she flew now was through his memory. They relaxed, stretched out in the grass, warmed by the sun. Starweaver sang his memories for her, taking her over the ocean, the plains, the forests.

She gave him the songs of her love. Of healing. Gentle songs that soothed his soul.

The niggling pain in her belly she ignored at first, singing stronger to him. Singing to remind him, tell him over and over, to keep flying, surviving.

She clutched at the egg in her belly. She'd explained that her belly was the egg. The thought absurd, strange. The pain, however, very real.

Her mate's forbidding flight echoed in their twinned minds.

She clutched his nose, so he could lift her to swollen, painful feet.

Arm over his neck, they waddled slowly, until the others heard their mingled cries of distress. Her mate ran to collect her.

Starweaver followed to the edge of the na'vi nests. They kept him from her.

He never saw his second hunter again.

* * *

Tears ran down Ted's face. Tears Starweaver could never shed.

The big ikran supported them now, soothed by memories of love. Soothed until one of the flying ikran splashed all three of the castaways with a forceful smack of beak and hindwings on water.

* * *

His first makto... so long ago.

A young na'vi had snuck into the ikran nests. A dare. A prank.

Starweaver found him raiding his nest. Stealing dried shell shards. Practice arrow heads. Treasure.

When their eyes met, their souls touched. Closing the bond had only been natural.

He couldn't fly yet. Not with a makto.

His hunter's parents weren't happy when they found out. His friends envied him. A guard was put in the rookery to stop others connecting too early. Or Starweaver from trying to fly with his makto before he could carry him safely.

They played. They grew.

Then, one day, when he was nearly ready, he sat on the cliff's edge, watching the ocean. Far below, many young hunters swam from the lower beach.

Starweaver called out. A familiar figure waved up to him. His makto. His heart swelled with pride.

Young and strong, he made for deeper water. A courage challenge. Who could swim farthest. The young ikran vibrated with energy, wanting to be a part of the game.

In the deep water, something caught his eye.

A sudden flurry of wings.

Starweaver startled in the confusion, ducking tight against the rock face as the adults took wing.

Panic.

A voice whispered from deep ancestral memory Predator. Huge. Danger. Fly!

He took wing. Flocking with the others with no thought as to why.

But then... Oh wing. Oh sea!

That dark shape in the deep water. He could see it now. Giant fish.

The adults dove for the fish. Attacking. Driving. Luring it away.

Starweaver dove for his makto. Connected.

The boy shouted to the others. Go for the shore!

Resolution flooded through his brave makto. They could do it.

* * *

Another splash drew Ted back to the present. Hard.

Shit.

The ikran were going after the same huge fish-ting. His mind's eye supplied him with Starweaver's memory of the size. He shut his eyes tight a moment, trying to block out all that threat.

Swim. He had to swim.

The coastline was offered to him. Which beaches were easiest to climb up. Best cliffs to dive from. Where the water gets too shallow for the creature.

Too much information.

Ted pushed aside the dark thought of sending Starweaver into the deep to draw the monster away.

No need to wonder where that thought came from.

Starweaver couldn't fly. His body had no reserves left. Getting out one last time had taken more than he'd had left.

Ted slipped the pup onto the ikran's back; thankfully the pup calmed once his grasping claws snicked tight around Starweaver's neck. His big lungs kept them both safely buoyant.

Ted dove under momentarily. The adults had the water too frothed up to tell if the creature was close. Probably kept them disguised as well.

You don't have to swim fast, an instructor's voice echoed up from his own past, slow and steady will get you home just as well.

Ignoring doom filled waters, he swam along Starweaver's neck. He refused to let go of the halo. Starweaver's flashes lasted ages and no time at all.

They moved painfully slowly. Ted felt every ache of the ikran's fatigued wings. He shoved, he cajoled, he yelled, forcing him on and on.

Ted only noticed the fear-stress's absence when it slowly leaked from the ikran's blood. Ted tread water a moment, trying to figure out the change.

Shallow water.

He looked around. Indeed, the color was lighter here. Maybe only twelve feet deep now. Shore close enough he could see individual people. So close!

The ikran still circled and splashed far behind them. Driving it off.

They swam the rest of the way as a sedate pace. Ted took the young ikran back once his feet could touch the bottom. Once they got to the wading depth, he pulled the exhausted pup onto his back. Starweaver struggled, first trying the usual hop to get through the hip deep water, then falling back to crawling on his wing knuckles.

Ted worried about how he sunk into the sand, but Starweaver was too fatigued to be concerned for himself. Just concentrated on putting one claw before another.

The first step onto the small sandy beach embarrassed the hell out of him. Ted extracted himself from the pup's talons and set the little one on the damp sand.

He'd expected Txantslusam to be there, to help get the pup back up at least, but it seemed like the entire Ikran Clan filled the narrow stretch of sand. Hell, even the long path back to the plateau top had na'vi clustered watching.

All of that, though, didn't matter. In the center of all the chaos, an impossible face.

The Great Singer looked down on the beach. Hesitating to come forward. Confusion wrinkled his brow, his eyes shifting from Ted, to Starweaver, and back again.

_Pariah. Outcast. Cursed one. _ Foul words covering frightened thoughts.

Ted looked back at Starweaver; surprised, and not.

_Unlucky, perhaps. Not cursed._

Starweaver opened himself, so Ted could see through his sharp four eyes as if they were his own, dizzying him. What he wanted to be seen, however, was painfully clear: echoed throughout the ikran's life. Ever since he led his first makto to his death.

Ted fought back the shame he felt. Not his shame. _Starweaver doesn't need to feel shame anyway!_ He shouted silently.

The open dread on Rol'ei's face, however, he could not deny.

"Rol'ei, I-"

Before he could finish the thought, the singer had turned and retreated right back up the pack.

"Ted! Ted! Ted!"

Nari pounced from no where, hugging him tight enough to get him coughing.

"I brought the wagon!"

Ted smile, pealing her off. Behind her, Txantslusam held the lead for one of the pa'li.

"Yes, you did. Thank you."

"We figured you'd be too tired to carry them both back up the cliff."

Ted felt warmed by the offer. And surprised by the mild joke.

The crowd dispersed some, many following the Singer and leaving the strange dreamwalker to his craziness.

Nari bundled up the pup in the wagon, leaving the guys to handle the semi-suicidal ikran.

"Stay connected," the scarred na'vi quietly reassured. "Bring him up to the back."

Ted really understood Rol'ei's earlier complaints now. For him, however, growing up human meant ordering a highly intelligent animal around turned extremely uncomfortable.

"He doesn't... want to."

Starweaver's eyes focused on the horizon. The stares of the people an uncomfortable press.

_Release..._

"He chose you-"

"He is reliving old pains. He's hallucinating from malnutrition."

The na'vi weighed his words.

"I don't know," Nari spoke up. "He looks better. He's got a purpose again. Come on! I'll hold the pa'li, you two get him up!"

Ted chewed on his lip a moment. He grasped their connected queue.

"I want you to help us get you into the wagon," he said quietly. He could feel the understanding. The refusal. "You came to save us, and now you are too weak to go where you want to. If you eat, and rest, you will be strong enough. But first, we need to get you back to the nest."

Txantslusam silenced Nari before she could protest. Ted concentrated very hard, trying to picture the great ikran flying romantically into the sunset, over the ocean, and away from everything. Irregardless that the sun set the other way.

Finally, assent.

With a bit of cajoling of the bystanders, they got him into the wagon. Ted climbed up as well, leaning against the side. Ted thanked them, then Nari for filling the wagon with sweet smelling dry grass. She grinned proudly.

"How'd you know I did it?"

_The clods of dirt from where you pulled up the whole plants._

"I just figured something this thoughtful had to be your idea."

When the na'vi guided dreamwalker, ikran, and pa'li back up and into the rookery, Ted was doubly thankful for the swaddling.

He rubbed the pup dry first to help keep him in the wagon. As soon as the other young ones were in view, he glided out.

_Hopefully he's learned._

Ted smiled, wondering who's thought that was. This was certainly interesting.

Minute shivers overtook Starweaver by the time they'd gotten the wagon settled. Ted rubbed vigorously, dropping wet straw over the side as he went. _Cold, exhausted. _ He needed hydration... nutrition... basic medical care. If he concentrated, Ted could even feel the bullets still stuck in his flank. Some of the care he could do, but he didn't have equipment for any of it.

Every time his mind wandered back to Rol'ei's facial expression, he focused all the harder on the task at hand.

His own muscles were shaking, he realized mid-reach for more dry straw. His hand trembled like a palsy.

Shock, maybe. Muscle fatigue, definitely. Supplements listed themselves in his mind's eye. All back at the station.

His hands gentled over some ugly puckered skin.

_Attattatt._

Bullet holes.

Starweaver didn't have the energy to get out of the wagon, uncomfortable as it was. Ted worried about asking any more of him.

"I think we have enough roots," Ted said, trying to be diplomatic, "but could you get me more grass like this? He needs to stay in this wagon."

"Sure!"

She bounded off. Txantslusam calmly began unhitching the pa'li. Ted directed him about the rocks he'd used for wheel breaks.

Ted felt sleep drag at him while the ikran began to drift. He stroked the fish-like head over and over while the others worked, reassuring him that he'd be here to care for him when he woke.

How to explain switching bodies to an ikran? Would he freak? Instinctively, Ted knew he would. The emptiness he felt when...

"Nari," he whispered once the ikran fell asleep. He gently let the tendrils disconnect, trying to not disturb him.

"Yes, Ted?"

"Shh, quietly. He's asleep. I need to get some things, to heal his wounds. I want someone to stay with him..."

"Ratche is here! She'll stay!"

Ted sighed in relief. A flicker of a memory returned as the funky warriorwoman returned with the friendly ikran – still in her riding rig, poor thing! Ratche had been the one to comfort Starweaver during the hunting accident; Rol'ei the only one brave enough to disengage the thrashing beast.

"Ratche, I need you to watch him until I get back." He hadn't really talked to her like this before, but his assumptions about their intelligence were up in the air right now.

She spent a while cooing and leaning on him, before finally turning to her charge. He stayed a moment longer, making Nari promise to keep him still. Heaven's knows how, but hell was Ted feeling it.

He crawled into Ratche's nest again – thankfully still clean – and settled in to return to his human body. He had a heck of a lot of work to do.

"Hey!" A sharp poke to his ribs.

"Yes, Nari?" He only opened one eye.

"What you said back there... did you mean it?"

Ted sighed and closed his eye. A difficult subject in the best of times.

"I didn't lie to him, but, I'm hoping with some time to heal, he will decide to live."

"I knew I liked you for a reason."

"Thank you, Nari. Please watch him for me."

His human body felt stiff with disuse. He really needed to do some yoga or something.

"Hey Lisa?"

Ted lifted the lid on his linkup.

"Hey jerk. What brings you back so early?"

He released the button on the throat communicator – a precaution Norm had insisted on with his avatar out of radio range – long enough to check the time and curse. Not even lunch yet.

"Could you come back to the linkup room?" Ted didn't exactly want to project the Ikran Clan issues on a frequency everyone was listening in on.

"What's wrong?" Trust her to ask anyway.

"Just need a little assistance. Hopefully nothing major."

"Alright. I'm at Hometree now. I'll be over as soon as I'm finished up."

"Thanks."

He made the best of his time waiting with picking out the essentials he needed. It felt damn weird packing for his other self. The instantaneous shifts make him nearly forget that that retrieving something as simple as a supplement was a bloody pain; one minute this bottle of B12 in his hands, then hours, or days, away the next.

At first the pile on his cot was a small handful, but it soon looked like a while caseload.

He was just between deciding if he needed his analyzing equipment when Lisa barged in.

"What's up pollywog?"

"Think you're up for a trip? There's a few supplies that I need."

She sat on the edge of his cot, looking over the items, as if figuring out a puzzle.

"What's going on, Ted? I mean, seriously. We thought you'd be headed back by now, and when you do come home, all you do is curl up on that cot and crash. If we didn't set food by your bed, I doubt you'd even eat."

He shrugged and lugged a trunk out from under his bunk. A bit big, but it'd work.

"I could use you're help-"

"You mentioned."

"I need to get an IV line in," he continued as if she hadn't interrupted. "I need to get a saline solution, and-"

"Wait, an IV line? What the hell?"

With a sigh, he sat beside her and explained the situation as simply as he could. He had no idea how to set up a line for the great creature, he'd need Lisa to do it for him. His thoughts traveled back tot hat last stunned look Rol'ei gave him.

"I think there are some injured as well. Rol'ei had compress pack on his shoulder."

"Compress pack? What happened?"

Ted shrugged, not meeting her gaze. "I don't know. He didn't have time to say anything, so I have no clue."

A gentle hand touched his shoulder. "Hey, I'm not the enemy here."

"I'm sorry Lisa. Its just... four days I've been worried sick over him, then he shows up and all I get for all that worry is a foul look and he stormed off."

"Well, you'd originally said you were going to head straight back, right? Maybe he was just surprised."

"How many folks do you know who are 'surprised' and don't say a damn word, huh? You'd think he'd at least say something."

She gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Come on, pack up all this stuff and I'll see what I can do for ya. Just stick with Txantslusam and that Nari gal and the ikran until I get there. I'm sure we'll figure it out."

They carefully packed up his supplies. Lisa insisted he get a good meal, and a bit of a walk, before he headed back to his Avatar. He felt so emotionally exhausted he didn't argue.

"We got it all set up," came her disembodied voice through the communicator. "Head back when you're ready. Jake said it should only take a couple hours by helicopter."

"Thank you," Ted said.

"No problemo, pollywog."

He smiled as he quickly ate his oatmeal. He should have figured she was worried about him, with all those damn endearments.

Getting back to his body, and back to Starweaver, made him feel like shit.

His human body might be stiff, but his Avatar form ached like no body's business. Talk about needing to stretch. Cold water, vigorous exercise... he knew better. Luckily, once Lisa got the trunk over, he'd have some painkillers on hand.

Nari and Ratche waited for him. The ikran – his ikran, now – remained asleep in the wagon. Ted gently smoothed his hand over the tough skin on one oddly cocked wing. Poor guy really didn't fit in there. He traced some of the patterns, idly wondering as the more muted markings. Between his dark gray skin, with the smoky swirls and occasional streaks of blue and speckles of red, the big ikran could very well disappear in a murky sky.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Ted grinned at Nari's uncomplicated view of the world. Perhaps he could benefit from a similar hit to the head.

"Yes, he is. Has his marking always been this-" he hated to say washed out. "subtle?"

"Don't know. Maybe ask Txantslusam? He knows everyone."

"Good idea."

Ratche butted up against him for a good rub. He considered taking her riding gear off, but didn't want to interfere, if Rol'ei needed to get into the air again.

"They're setting a party up," Nari said conversationally.

"A party?"

"Mmm hmm. 'Cause us hunters are back." She eyed him out of the corner of her eye, her chin leaning on the rim of the wagon's wall, looking across Starweaver at him. "We should be celebrating for you too."

"For me?" Ted chuckled, embarrassed again. "Rescuing the pup was no big. Anyone would have done that."

"No, not that," she said. She reached over, offering a crumbled handful of fluff. Her discarded gifts. He took them back, feeling bad that they looked really trod on. "You're an ikranmakto now. You can be accepted as one of the clan."

Ted felt his cheeks heat up. His stomach gurgled, nervous, excited, and worried. Had he pressed the matter? Did he force them to accept him, by taking one of their ikran? Would they allow the match, considering Starweaver's... history? And if Starweaver really did...

"There are other things to worry about for me, for now. If you want to go to the party, though, you can. It is for you, after all."

She grinned, ran to hug him. Even kissed his cheek.

He shook his head as he watched her go. Ratche butted against him again, nearly knocking the plant bits out of his hands. He rinsed the bits out and set them to dry on the wagon's flat seat. Txantslusam he had no sight of, but figured he was probably getting ready for the celebration as well. He could see the crowd of Ikran Clan around the tents, but none came this close. A bit of raw fish for his belly, a larger chunk for Ratche since she begged, and he was back up in the wagon.

Starweaver roused enough to open one set of eyes. Ted gently reached for his tendril and connected the halo with him. He smiled at the big sigh from the ikran.

They remained sitting like that, Starweaver not quite awake or asleep, and Ted quietly fussing. Resettling the grass to make the temporary pallet more comfortable, scooping out the wet stuff, repositioning a wing, or a tail, for a slightly more comfortable position, visually examining the half-healed wounds. Starweaver grew anxious with his fussing, so, finally he simply sat in the grass against his side. The wagon barely held the ikran, so Ted couldn't get comfortable without leaning on him some way or another.

Starweaver grudgingly scooted, just enough for a spot for his butt, against the curve of the ikran's neck.

_You're putting up with me,_ he thought. _But I get the feeling you miss some of this closeness._

His hunters, Starweaver had not thought of all of them as his makto, had rarely simply sat with him. The second rider, the pregnant woman, had cuddled close with him, but the others... That last one had only meant to use him as a way to end her own life. The third too scared of even his own ikran to truly accept him. The first, but a boy and had never known the comfort he could have given with touch.

Deep pain swelled up in his heart. Ted started to get up, worried he'd put an elbow into a bullet hole or something.

No, the remembering. Even the lives he did not think as close had touched him. Touched his soul.

Ratche cooed worriedly, rubbing the side of her muzzle first against Ted's shoulder, than Starweaver's.

"We both need rest," he said aloud, finding it easier to form concrete thoughts that way. "My friend will be here to help in a couple hours. I'd like to meditate."

He felt a little silly talking aloud like this to them. You're going to have to get used to it, he told himself.

Ted settled against the curve of Starweaver's neck again. As much as he'd like to delve into the ikran's memories, into his senses, he felt the fatigue pulling at the both of them.

Instead, he simply looked out onto the plain – not wanting to allow thoughts of the endless ocean to give him a sad cast to his thoughts – and focused on little more than the wind drying droplets of saltwater from his skin, the warmth of the sun on his face, his shoulder, even the echo of it against the ikran's hide.

Another big sigh lifted his body a moment, as Starweaver took comfort, and rest, from his blank mind.

Ratche's inquiring call roused the both of them.

Starweaver focused in the distance. His body grew tense. Ted tried to receive the information he was given, but the strangeness of looking through another creature's eyes was too much. For now, anyway.

He stayed them both with a word, waiting.

Two thin forms solidified through the haze, the afternoon sun causing heat ripples on the clear plain.

Two thin forms with arms filled with odd-sized boxes. Ted grinned, stood on the back of the wagon, and waved.

"Oi! Over here!"

He was surprised to see Jake leading the way, his arms filled with a sack that carried his trunk, among others. Wait, not a sack, but some of that cameo netting gathered up. It worked, Ted supposed.

"You look a bit like Santa Clause," Ted greeted in English.

Lisa laughed and clapped the marine on the back. "He'd going to have to gain a bit more weight for that. We'd have to make him a beard too."

"Har. Har. Here, Lisa said you'd need this." He swung the bag down, settling it on the ground with more care than the botanist would expect of a grunt.

"How'd you get here so quick?"

Jake eyed the sky a moment. "It's been four hours. Not very quick if you ask me." Ted's eyes went skyward as well, surprised that indeed more time had passed than he'd noticed. Guess he'd fallen asleep.

"We took one of the helicopters. Got a little lost on the way. I thought Jake could give me directions here, considering, but the nag-ravator got confused."

"Hey, I've only been here once before. With Neytiri showing me the way. On Toruk, not saying 'left here, right there' from the back of-"

"Thank you for all the effort," Ted interrupted. He could just bet that Jake's patience was worn thin after four hours with Lisa. "Is the pilot safe?"

"Headed back to base, for now. Figured with night coming on."

"Of course, of course. I hadn't thought." Ted waved away his assumptions. Guess they're spending the night.

"Do you need any help?" Ted shook his head to Jake's question. "Then I'm going to go give my formal greetings. Not exactly polite to come in without announcing myself."

"Go on," Lisa said, with a shove. "You're sick of me, I know. No need for excuses."

Jake grinned but didn't apologize further as he made his escape.

"Now," she declared, rubbing her hands together like an mad scientist. "Why don't you introduce me to your new friend. I'll fix him right up, then we'll see what we can do to patch up you and Rol'ei."

* * *

Eywa – the Spirit Mother, Goddess  
Jake (Jakesully) and Neytiri – main characters from the movie  
Lisa – Lisa Furlan, medic and language expert  
Rol'ei – Singer for the Ikran Clan  
Ted – Edward Cera, Avatar ethnobotanist. A specialist in nutritional values of Pandoran plants.  
Txantslusam – Ikran caretaker, scarred from human's ill treatment.  
Nari – well-intentioned na'vi, who's had one too many hits to the skullpan

Ikran (Banshee) – Four-winged flying mount, wingspan 13.9 meters (with Sea ikran easily reaching 15 or more)  
Ratche – Rol'ei's uncharacteristically friendly ikran  
Tanhi Taftxuyu (Starweaver) – Ted's pessimistic mount

Pa'li (Direhorse) – six-legged horse mount, 4 meters tall


End file.
